


This Feels A Lot Like Love

by rosemeetsdagger



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: And everyone knows they love each other before they do, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically they're both dumb boys with feelings, F/M, Harry is the gay nerd, Light BDSM, Lots of Angst, Louis is the popular footie captain, M/M, They use each other for sex, They're both broken boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:11:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 80,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7960156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosemeetsdagger/pseuds/rosemeetsdagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry didn’t expect for his senior year to be filled with a blue-eyed boy with sharp cheekbones and an even sharper tongue. Then again, he didn’t expect to fall in love either.</p><p>Closeted romance, false promises and stolen kisses ensues.</p><p>[Harry and Louis mess around a bit. It turns out to be a problem when Louis is closeted.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction. None of this is real, nor did it happen. Similarities between characters and real people are purely coincidental.
> 
> I wanted to write a high school themed AU for a really long time. Then I fell asleep and dreamed this plot. Not even joking. In a spur of an inspired moment, and a day where I felt utterly ill, this happened. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> The first chapters are always the shortest!

* * *

The first time Harry saw Louis was in Year 4. They were both fairly young and pink cheeked, probably still pissing in their bedsheets. Harry’s curls were barely starting to form, stray wisps of hair curling on his forehead and around his flushed cheeks. Too short for anybody’s liking. He was sat alone by himself with no one to play with until a messy haired Louis wadded along and gave him his crayons.

“They’re the color of the rainbows,” he said, his smiling lips painted a cherry red.

Harry thanked him quietly and watched him walk back to his little group of friends with stars in his eyes.

The second time Harry saw Louis was in Year 11. His curls were starting to unravel into long locks of waves. His clothes were patched up and old, but everybody else was still too young to notice or care. He was sat in the bleachers at the pitch where boys were lining up to try out for the school’s football team for next year. Louis, of course, was there with his shining face and sweaty hair. He ran up and down the green meadow of grass kicking penalty after penalty kick, scoring eight goals out of ten. Harry was utterly impressed. He didn’t think it was a big deal that his eyes were pinpointed to the short statured boy with blue eyes.

The third time Harry saw Louis was in Year 13, Upper Sixth Form. Harry was minding his own business as usual and stacking heavy textbooks in his ratty, old rucksack. His clothes were bought from the Lost and Found shop two blocks away from their house and his hair was curled, swept off his forehead in a nice fringe. His classmates were finally old enough to understand that he was poor and kept to himself, mostly because when he came out last year, people bullied him mercilessly. His mum had cried and Gemma had wanted to fail her classes in order to protect him from mean bullies. But Harry wanted to be truly himself and so they called him brave.

Harry slammed his locker shut, his pigeon toed feet carrying him to his next class. As soon as his eyes landed on the pair of bullies, he turned around and headed to the other direction. Most likely to the loos where he sought out protection. Before he reached the restrooms however, a large meaty palm fell on his shoulder, stopping him shortly.

“Hey, Curly. Where are you going?”

Harry swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. He turned around, nerves prickling his skin and spreading goosebumps on his flesh.

“Um,” he said weakly. His eyes darted around everywhere except at Emmett, who was staring intently in his eyes. “I—Um—Well.”

“Um. Um. What?” Emmett sneered. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Hey, Em!”

Both boys turned around to the sound of a high, Yorkshire accented voice. Harry knew that voice anywhere. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Louis running towards them, his slightly sweaty hair brushed off his forehead. He reached them and patted Emmett’s back a little too roughly.

“Drop your hands off my boy here,” he ordered with smiling lips, gesturing to Harry.

“You know this nerd?” Emmett asked, disbelief coloring his voice.

Louis tsk’ed his tongue on the roof of his mouth. He arched his eyebrow, his scrutinized eyes racing up and down Emmett’s face.

“Now, now, Em. Settle down. We’re all friends here. Why don’t you leave poor H here alone and run along to footie practice, will you?”

“But—” Emmett started, his brows pinching together.

“As your footie captain, I order you to come along. You’re late already,” Louis said, his voice stern.

No longer was the playful attitude or the mirth twinkled eyes, replaced by a puffed out chest and narrowed eyes. He was a leader for a reason.

Emmett dropped his hand off Harry’s shoulder and checked him against the row of lockers while passing by, his entourage following him. Harry tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs and fallen books. Louis stared at Emmett’s back angrily before dropping down to his haunches.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice soft. He helped Harry pick up his books and stuffed them into his rucksack. “Sorry about him. He’s a jerk.”

“Why are you doing this?” Harry asked, his voice shaky.

He hated that he sounded so vulnerable and close to tears. One thing he knew was to never let them show how much they affected him.

Louis shrugged his shoulders. He helped Harry up with a hand steadying his waist. Harry licked his dry lips, ignoring the searing burn of Louis’ touch. The heat of his fingertips made him lean into his warmth subconsciously. Louis smiled faintly, pale blue eyes searching his face.

Harry was all too aware of their surroundings. He was aware that it was just the two of them now, the hallways empty and quiet. He was sure the last bell rang somewhere before, but he was too busy tracing Louis’ sharp cheekbones with his eyes to notice.

The bell rang again, reminding them that they weren’t the only ones in the world. Louis’ head snapped up to the sound. He thumbed to the direction where Emmett and his crew left, smiling sheepishly.

“I gotta go to footie practice. Don’t worry, I’ll make Emmett run ten more laps today.”

He smiled at him one last time and jogged off. Harry’s words died in his throat. He never even asked him how Louis knew his name. What he really wanted to ask was,

_You know me? I mean, you were looking at me back then?_

. . .

It was Harry’s favorite season come yet, October. With its falling orange and yellow leaves, crunching underneath his new pair of favorite suede boots. The air smelling of crisp wind, butterflying leaves in the air. October with its teenagers bubbling about the pumpkin spiced lattes from Starbucks and aspiring writers spending endless hours in quaint little coffee shops bending over their brightly lit laptop screens.

It was understandable to say that October was Harry’s favorite, cozy season.

It was also the start of their school’s footie team season. Harry may or may not have lingering eyes over a certain football player decked out in their school colors of royal blue and sunshine yellow. The regal bumblebees! Go bumblebees! Harry thought it was ridiculous for a simple bumblebee wearing a royal crown but then again, he was not the one in charge for his school’s mascot or logo.

So naturally, that’s how he found himself cheering along to the students in the stands. The FW’s, or football wives, were giggling animatedly amongst themselves, waving pennants in the air. Everybody knew that only family members and football girlfriends were the only ones who were allowed to carry those colorful pennants. Their respective boyfriends would get the pennants for them, a symbol of territorial marking. Again, Harry thought it was ridiculous.

Harry was sat next to his neighbor and long-time best friend, Niall Horan. Niall was a fan of their own school’s football team and often gushed about their season on the school’s radio show with host Nick Grimshaw. He was raucous, a good laugh and a cheery presence to be around with. Harry was lucky that Niall had stuck by him throughout all these years, even when he was the first one Harry came out to and cried on his shoulder. They were with each other through thick and thin.

Bundled in coats and scarves, Harry was shivering in his seat. The honk bellowed out in the air, announcing the commencement of the game. Their team jogged out on the pitch alongside with the opposing team. They raised their hands over their hearts, attuned to the pledge of allegiance song.

They clapped hands once the song was over, the footie captains shaking hands. With a blow to the whistle, the game began. The cheerleaders ran out in the field in skimpy outfits even with the blowing wind, chanting out cheers to pump up the audience. Harry found himself echoing back their cheers, stomping his feet and cupping his hands around his mouth.

All throughout the game, Harry’s eyes chased around the number twenty-eight racing across the pitch. He licked his lips at the sight of Louis’ delicious thick thighs, toned arms—the swell of his arse over his shorts. At some point, Niall nudged him in the side with his elbow, snickering quietly.

“Hey mate, think you got some drool there,” he laughed with pursed lips to stop any more laughter from escaping.

Harry rolled his eyes, nudging him back. Even though it was the start of October season and the atmosphere had picked up on a cool wind, he felt warm all over. He was pretty sure he was burning at the touch, water racing down his cheeks to pool in his collarbones.

The regal bumblebees won 3-0. Harry stood up clapping, cheering uproariously while the rest of the fans mimicked his enthusiasm. When they were trotting down the steps, he lost Niall’s blonde head somewhere amidst other heads. He shoved his hands in his pockets and lingered by the chain link fence, eyes searching for his friend.

Niall came back with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Hey,” he breathed, tugging him along. “Where are we going?” Harry asked dumbly. “I bumped into Zayn and he invited me to hang with the lads. You in?”

Harry’s knees went queasy. He gripped Niall’s shoulder to stand upright.

"Um,” he said, licking his lips. His heart thrummed in his chest. His hands felt prickly with fresh sweat. “Who are the lads, exactly?”

“Just Stanley and Louis, of course.”

Louis as in Louis Tomlinson. _Of course._

“So…You in?” Niall asked again, his head cocked to the left.

He looked like a happy go-lucky golden retriever with his tongue sticking out. Harry couldn’t say no to that.

Harry followed Niall as if he was the lost puppy to where Zayn, Stanley and Louis were standing. Louis had showered and changed right after the game, judging by his damp hair and fresh set of clothes. They reached them graciously, Niall clapping their backs with a smiling face as Harry stood closely behind.

“Hey, it’s Curly!” Louis cheered, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a grin.

Harry found himself smiling along. Louis’ enthusiasm was infectious. Niall introduced Harry to the rest of the guys. He shook their hands politely and smiled bigger when it was Louis’ turn, their hands lingering for longer than normal. Zayn tracked their motions but didn’t bother to say anything about it. Harry was grateful.

“So what do you say we grab some burgers and chips?” Stanley offered, rubbing his hands together and blowing hot air on them.

Harry almost forgot about the cold. He was much too warm from Louis’ warmth, his hands sweating and beads of sweat trickling down his neck. He fingered the scarf around his neck, pulling it away from his burning skin.

The boys agreed to carpool to Burger Brothers, a burger joint where they served the freshest burgers and mouthwatering milkshakes. Harry’s personal favorite. They climbed in and hummed hit song after hit song, Harry falling into a repeated mantra of _this is only temporary, this is only temporary, this is only temporary._

See, because it was all too easy for Harry to get adjusted to this life. A life where he forgot he had the highest marks in his class and he wasn’t teased for his changing looks. Where he had more than one best friend and they hung out all the time, maybe even invited him to parties. Where he desperately denied having an infinitesimal crush on the blue-eyed boy sitting next to him, all loud laughs and bright smiles.

When they finally arrived at the burger joint, they squeezed into a booth. Zayn and Stanley were on one side of the booth while Harry and Louis were on the other, Niall scooting up a chair to sit at the end. Harry ignored the warmth of their thighs touching or the way Louis would casually run his fingers on his thigh. He watched him carefully all the while, but his shoulders scrunched into themselves when he realized Louis would be joking around with Zayn or flirting with the pretty waitress, completely oblivious to what his hands were doing underneath the table. Maybe it was just a Louis thing. Besides, he was known for flirting with everybody, platonic or not.

All throughout the afternoon, Harry had to endure Louis’ soft touches. On his thigh, on his shoulder, once even on his cheek when Louis patted him gently. He kept his hands tucked in between his squeezed thighs while Louis touched as he pleased, tender fingertips touching his skin.

Once they were done with their food, they leaned back against the plush leather of the booth. Harry admired the way Louis’ belly was a slight swell compared to the rest of his body. It reminded him that he was a regular boy and not some being with godlike features and tanned skin.

“How about we go to Harry’s for the night?” Louis asked, looking at Harry softly.

The boys piped up in agreement, all pair of eight eyes looking at him for confirmation. Harry found himself nodding helplessly. Mostly because he had a hard time making friends and this was his opportunity. If he didn’t say yes now, he would never be able to make friends without Niall’s help. So he nodded weakly and let himself smile at the sight of the boys whopping out cheers and hoots.

Sneaking the boys in was fairly easy. Harry’s mum had taken night shifts at the supermarket store and his dad was probably roaming dingy pugs, getting himself utterly wasted. He had learned early enough it was best to ignore their constant fighting when his dad would get home wasted to his tired mum.

They tiptoed quietly to his room, Harry nicking the door shut behind him. The lads gathered around on the floor, forming a circle. Zayn patted his pockets for a smoke and a deck of cards while Stanley produced a six pack of beer seemingly out of nowhere. Louis patted the empty place beside him, looking up at Harry with twinkling eyes.

“Want a cig?” Zayn asked, a cigarette already falling off his lips loosely.

That was generally the nicest thing Zayn could offer to somebody. It was his way of accepting him into his group of friends. He also said he was addicted to smoking though Harry believed it just helped his bad boy persona even more. Harry denied, curls twisting themselves onto his forehead.

Zayn shrugged and passed one to Louis while Stanley and Niall denied. Normally Harry would warn him that there was no smoking inside, his mum’s rules and not his, but he really needed to hit it off tonight. He had to do whatever it took for them to accept him as one of theirs.

Niall grabbed the cards and started shuffling them. Pretty soon, the silence was enveloped in raucous laughter and smoke wisps curling in the air. Beers passed between them, Harry sharing one with Louis. He passed it back to him with shining red lips. He brought the beer to his lips and swallowed. It was the closest way of kissing Louis he was ever going to get.

Some hours into the night, Harry had gotten used to the constant teasing and smoke lingering in the air. He felt himself feel heavy with sleep, the smoke tinting his clothes and hair. He didn’t care as long as he was pressed up against Louis, thighs touching, shoulders brushing. He felt hazy and drunk every time Louis’ fingertips slid on his knee, teasingly slow. He felt even drunker when he saw Louis and drank him in, his flushed cheeks, his shimmering eyes, his red lips. He was stupidly beautiful.

Once the laughter settled down and they were surrounded by comfortable silence, the front door banged shut. The air shifted with the motion. Harry’s back tensed up immediately.

“Harry,” his dad called, somewhere from downstairs.

“Oh,” Louis said, quietly. He lowered his voice even lower. “I think Hazza here has a bedtime.”

The boys giggled in their fists. Harry remained quiet, stunned. He didn’t even shudder at the new nickname. Louis teased him in front of the others, on purpose, and it made him feel small. Incredibly so. He wanted to crawl under the covers and hide from the rest of the world.

Instead, he pursued his lips and announced, “I think you lot should go.”

Louis sobered up. He stared at him, eyelids blinking, a little bit drunk. Harry wanted to run his thumb on the pillowed cushion of his lower lip. The boys around them exchanged glances and one by one, slowly stood up. They gathered their things and went to the window, propping their legs over the windowsill to escape.

Louis and Harry were swallowed in silence. Harry swallowed hard and looked down, his hands shaking. Louis looked small and vulnerable, his bottom lip disappearing in his mouth. Harry wanted to tuck him to his chest and kiss his temple. He felt this sudden overwhelming affection that if he didn’t express it somehow, he was going to burst. He was going to die. Oh god, was he drunk? Or high? Or worse, _both?!_

Now that they were alone, Louis cupped his cheek and held his hand, his thumb smoothing the skin there absentmindedly. Harry thought it was  _only_ because they were alone. It would hurt his hetero reputation otherwise.

“I didn’t mean what I said before,” he hesitated, his eyes shimmering. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Harry replied, feigning casualty.

He pushed Louis’ hands away even though it hurt him at the fathom touch.

“You were right. I need to go to sleep or else…”

He motioned with his hand the universal gesture of slitting one’s throat. Louis dropped his hands. He parted open his chapped lips on a breath. He seemed to be fighting with the idea of staying or leaving.

However, he nodded slightly and slid out of the window, his legs tumbling after him. Harry leaned over the windowsill, white knuckled hands gripping the ledge. He watched Louis hop down the hood of Stanley's red, busted up car and jump through the passenger’s side gracefully. The clatter of empty beer bottles was heard as he assembled himself in the seat.

He flicked his hand in the air. Harry waved back, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He watched the car speed off into the night with a sputter of smoke following them. He closed the window and crawled into bed, listening to the sounds of his heart thumping in his chest.

He touched his cheek where Louis last touched him with careful fingertips. He willed his body to sleep, even though he wasn’t tired. He was buzzing with anticipation that would never come from Louis’ gentle touches. He fluttered his eyes closed and rolled around, tucking his hands underneath the cool side of the pillow. He replayed Louis’ voice over and over in his head, his smiling mouth and blue eyes flickering over in his memory.

He remembered Louis’ scent the most. Still smelling of grass and clean soap and faint cigarette smoke. He could only imagine what his mouth tasted like.

Did he taste like toothpaste or like cigarette? Harry would never know the reality.

Because in a world like this, Harry didn’t have a chance with Louis, and someone like Louis would never fall in love with someone like Harry. At least, that’s what he was raised to believe in.

Harry dreamed that night of cigarette tasting lips and pressing fingertips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the longest chapters yet! A little bit of fluff, a little bit of smut, a little bit of feelings sprinkled here and there. 
> 
> P.S. If you've ever read any of my previous stories then you know I'm keen on writing more about the plot than smut but since this story revolves around equal parts smut and plotline, then I'll do my best even though I'm terrible at it. Let me know how I did!

* * *

Yesterday seemed distinctively like a dream.

So when Harry woke up slow and steady, ate his bowl of brightly colored fruits and walked the few blocks to school, he didn’t really expect a surprise when he opened up his locker this morning.

Two tickets to the next footie game. Tonight. There was no note attached to it or anything, just two simple orange tickets in a small envelope. Harry clutched them in his hands, looking around for a secret admirer lingering by and finding no one, resolutely closing his locker shut and walking to his first class.

That was how he found himself pestering Niall about joining him for the game. They were sat around the lunch table, masses of students filing in and out and bumping against each other with stacks of horrendous food. Niall didn’t seem to mind though, considering he was shoving his mouth full of soggy macaroni and cheese.

“C’mon, _Ni_ ,” Harry whined. He put on his best puppy eyes that got him out of trouble with his mum.

“No,” Niall said firmly with a shake of his head, crumbs of bread clustered around his chin and mouth. “I’ve got finals next week. Have to study and all that.”

Harry hummed low in his throat. Harry Styles was many things, but he was _not_ a quitter. Especially when it came to a new, potential romance. He inched closer to Niall, resting his chin atop his bony shoulder.

“Niall,” Harry said, low but surely. “I’ll do whatever you want. Please?”

Niall shoved him away. He pursued his lips and set his sandwich down. “Alright. But no sexual favors, alright?”

“Ugh, no. Not what I meant mate.” Harry grimaced.

“Sneak me in a beer and I’ll go.”

Harry gaped. He opened and closed his mouth, his lips forming a perfect ring of circle.

“But, how?” he asked, disbelief coloring his eyes a bright green.

“Dunno, mate.” Niall shrugged.

He picked up his sandwich and resumed his slow chews, shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his other cheek. He looked like a chipmunk squirreling away acorns for winter. The resemblance was uncanny.

Harry groaned, his head falling on the table. He could either spend another Friday night alone wallowing in his self-pity or he could rummage through his father’s case of beers and steal some, where he could possibly get caught and earn himself his first stay at home punishment. Stay at home punishment it was.

Later, when the afternoon haze was turning into dark with its starry night and brightly lit stars, the wave of yellow refrigerator light washed Harry in a glow of light. He rummaged in the back where his fingers felt the cool condensation of beers. He quickly grabbed two and stuffed it in his backpack. If his father accused him of stealing such possessions, he would merely blame it on his drunk behavior to forget he drank two more on his nights of binge drinking a six pack.

With that, he kissed his mum goodbye on the cheek and headed off. He was close enough to the pitch where he heard cheers, chants, yells and the occasional murmur of defeat when the opposing team scored. Harry loved the atmosphere of it all.

He climbed the steps to the bleachers, his eyes searching for a familiar head of bleached locks. He caught sight of Niall sitting on the very top of the stands, chewing on buttered popcorn. Harry blew air out of his lips and trudged along, plopping himself on the open space next to him.

“Hey Haz,” Niall murmured, his hands sticky from butter.

He flexed his open palm for a handshake, waiting. Harry sighed and gave in, shaking his greasy hand. He rubbed his dirty palm on his black trousers. He shouldered off his backpack and grabbed a sweating beer, handing one over to Niall. Niall accepted it gratefully with shining eyes, Harry taking the other one for himself.

They spent their time watching the game in silence, enveloped in enthusiastic cheers from nearby fans whose faces were painted in colors of blues and yellows. Harry was caught up in the game all the while, his eyes shining and red from the warm beer, never leaving sight off the short structured boy with the thick thighs and strong legs. Louis was amazing on the field, dodging opponents and dribbling the ball in between legs and around built bodies. He was a pixie, all lithe limbs and delicate wrists, but he used it to his advantage, jogging around the pitch like he was meant for all the attention, the glory, the win.

Harry found himself to be mesmerized more than ever. His eyes traced the sweat trickling down Louis’ back, painting his kit to his stomach. The muscles on his legs were glistening with sweat, toned under golden flesh. His kit was large enough that on a particular shove or grip, it would hang loosely off his shoulder or dip well below his exposed collarbones. He wanted to lick the sweat off those delicate chest bones.

He was unabashedly staring as well. Niall caught him ogling the number twenty-eight across the field more than once, occasionally snickering behind his hand or shoving his elbow in his ribs. It would send Harry sputtering out his beer, affronted and shocked as he stared at Niall, whose mere response was to laugh uproariously about it. Harry wasn’t vain. He loved inner beauty and he knew that physical beauty was just a bonus.

But Louis was beautiful in every way. In the way he carried himself, so unapologetic bold and loud, in the way he cared about others, gentle and loving, in the way he expressed his emotions. He was sweet and abrasive, with the perfect amount of wit and sass and the occasional shyness, with coy smiles and mirth twinkled eyes. Harry found this about him in the span of a few hours where they were together at Burger Brothers and then again in his bedroom floor. He was charmed.

After the game was finished with another grand win for the Regal Bumblebees, Harry and Niall trotted down the steps. Niall asked him if he could wait for him by the parking lot so he could chat up with Stanley, something about organizing a study group in the weekend (Harry was truly impressed) and so he waited. His hands were shoved in his pockets, kicking little pebbles across the parking lot. Boisterous laughter boomed in the air, Harry whipping his head around to the sound. As expected, it was Niall, accompanied by Zayn, Stanley and Louis. He felt himself go numb at the core, his fingertips freezing, his actions faltering.

Niall approached him with Zayn, an arm slung across his shoulder with Stanley beside them. Louis followed them closely behind, a coy smile playing on his lips.

Harry felt himself become suddenly self-conscious, adjusting the strap on his backpack and fiddling with the curls tickling his cheeks. He steadied the cap atop his head and didn’t know whether to fling it forwards or leave it on backwards. He was weighing the options around in his head (maybe he should just take it off? His curls might charm Louis off his feet) when all four boys reached him.

“Harry!” Niall cheered, looking like a cherubic angel, all loose limbed and pink cheeked. “You remember Zayn and Stanley, right?”

Harry looked at him bored, unblinking. “You mean the same lads that came to my home? Yeah, I do.”

“And _of course_ you remember Lou-ee,” he chimed, placing emphasis on the ‘of course.'

Harry went bright at the words, the tips of his ears colored a flushed red. He pursed his lips and avoided Louis’ gaze, where his curling lips and amused eyes burned a hole on the side of his face. Louis’ smile went lopsided, reaching over to clasp his hands with Harry’s. Their hands touched, Harry’s pulse threatening to jump out of his throat. It was unfair that Louis’ hands were so delicate, so soft, calloused a little where he was the goalkeeper without gloves.

“Hey Harry,” Louis greeted, his voice a soft rasp. It made Harry’s toes curl on their own accord. “Glad you could make it.”

“Same to you.”

Louis’ smile grew, his head tilting to the right. All four boys stared at Harry curiously. He caught himself between feeling embarrassed and self-deprecating. Maybe a little bit of both.

"I mean, yeah, dunno, there were two tickets in my locker. Felt like I was obliged to come.”

“Uh, yeah. That might have been me,” he said sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.

It was his turn for the boys to gape at him. Even Harry stood a little stunned, parting open his mouth. They all stood staring at each other, exchanging glances. Harry felt the air go a little stiff, even when there was a cool breeze fluffing up his curls.

Louis rubbed his hands together, narrowing his eyes at the rest of the boys in a scrutinized gaze. It seemed to be code for something because Stanley tugged Niall and Zayn along in a different direction. Harry watched them leave with a raised eyebrow. He turned back to Louis, his gaze questioning.

“So after each win, we head out to a bonfire. It’s sort of special. Everybody comes and we throw in the opponents’ stuffed mascot into the fire. It’s kind of great, actually. I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

Harry found himself nodding before he answered. He stuttered out, “Um, yeah. Sounds lovely. Absolutely,” on a rapt breath. Louis’ smile absolutely glowed. He wanted to make him smile for the rest of his life for as long as he could.

Since Harry walked all the way here, Louis offered to give him a ride to where they were holding the bonfire. It was the perfect weather as the wind had died down and the air was silent. He knew they arrived at their destination when an orange glow tinted the windows. As they approached closer, he saw silhouettes of dark bodies roaming freely across the bonfire in large shadows.

They climbed off the car and headed to the bonfire, their shoulders brushing with every step. Harry’s eyes were stuck to the fire as if it was luring him in. He supposed it was. When they arrived at the bonfire, a few steps before the actual glowing fire, Louis mentioned he was going to grab some stuffed toys for them to throw in. He nodded after him, keeping his eyes level on the glow.

He felt himself inch towards without noticing. Tiny steps forward, he found himself closer to the lit, crackling wood, specks of dotting fire flecking on his bare skin and arms. He reached out a hand, fingertips grazing the embers of light. A hand pulled him away, jerking him backwards until he was mushed against a warm body.

“Hey,” a low voice murmured in his ear. Harry pulled back to stare into brightly colored eyes, tinged blue with flecks of yellows and reds flashing in his irises. “Be careful. Everybody’s first time at a bonfire lures them in.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Harry tucked a loose curl behind his ear.

He didn’t know why Louis invited him in the first place or placed two tickets to his game in his locker. He especially didn’t know what his intentions were tonight. But whatever Louis was willing to give him, Harry would accept gratefully. His minuscule, pathetic crush had grown into something bigger and he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to stop it. All he knew was that his heart beat rapidly in his chest whenever Louis touched him, fingertips grazing his arm.

Louis handed over a stuffed bear. The Mighty Bears were their rival opponent, shot down by the Regal Bumblebees.

“Thanks,” Harry offered quietly.

Louis smiled politely at him and grabbed his own teddy bear, the black button eyes staring emptily at them.

"Ready?” Louis asked, sharp pointed teeth glowing from the lit fire.

Harry nodded helplessly, watching Louis throw the poor bear into the fire. With semi reluctance, he threw his own in, staring as the fire curling around the body and swallowed it whole.

“Louis,” Harry started, his voice quiet whereas cheers and hollers were surrounding them. “Why did you leave the tickets in my locker?”

Louis shrugged, the perfect picture of nonchalance. He smiled coy, his smile curling up into something so bright and beautiful.

“I dunno, I guess…” He flicked his hand in the air nervously for a beat, swallowing hard. Harry tracked the motion of his Adam’s apple bopping. “I like you.”

Harry simply stared.

He caught himself when Louis arched an eyebrow. He shook his head side to side, disbelieving. Wait, what? Did Louis Tomlinson, footie captain and drama lead actor, just told him he liked him? It was like something out of a dream. Harry took his head out of the sky and brought it into reality.

“What?” he asked, numb.

Louis laughed shyly. He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned up at him. He was so close that Harry barely noticed Louis was a head shorter than him, his lips level with Harry’s neck. The perfect height for kisses on the column of his throat. Fuck. He stashed that piece of information away and watched Louis come closer, struggling with finding the perfect words.

“I’ve always noticed you around. I mean, c’mon, with the curls and all. Who wouldn’t love you?” Louis bit the corner of his mouth. Harry’s gaze traveled to his thin lips then back up to his tenerife colored eyes. “You’re just different, that’s all.”

“How different?”

“You’re…” Louis openly stared him up and down. His hot gaze settled on his face, tracing the curves of his blood red, bow shaped lips. “Different. Don’t know how to explain it.”

“Different from all your conquests?”

At that, Louis laughed unabashedly. Harry’s smile grew, watching the corners of Louis’ lips curl upwards. His laugh was so infectious. Louis dabbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, his laugh diminishing to something private. Reserved just for Harry.

“See. The fact that you use those precise words say something about you.”

“Alright,” Harry huffed. “Don’t patronize me.”

Louis smiled fondly at him. He grabbed Harry’s hand and tugged him along, away from the bonfire and the drunken people and the chaotic mess. He could only follow him helplessly, wondering where the boy with the sharp cheekbones was taking him. Louis unlocked his sleek, black Maserati and climbed in the backseat, pulling him along with him. He toppled inside with clumsy legs and shut the door behind him.

He grazed his palm on the leather, shiny seats, admiring the beauty of the inside of his convertible sports car. He knew that Louis was rich from what he heard on all the gossip but he didn’t know he was utterly rich, with expensive cars that costed more than Harry’s life. Apparently his stepfather worked at a prestigious law firm and his mother worked at a hospital. Though Louis was born into the posh life with maids and nannies catering after him, Louis was humble and modest. He was raucous laughs and bright smiles and a heart made out of gold. Harry was possibly in love.

“Nice car,” Harry commentated, his voice filled with awe.

What he wanted to say was sexy car. Only fit for a sexy guy.

“Thanks,” Louis replied, spread out on the backseat with palms sliding up and down his thighs. Harry tried to ignore him, from the way his mouth curved into a seducing smile to the way he was laid out open, a perfect place for him to crawl in between his thighs. “David appreciates the compliment.”

“David?” Harry asked, lost.

“It’s me car’s name. David Beckham.”

“Why?” Harry questioned, his brows furrowing.

“’Cause I ride him every day.”

Harry’s perfect mannerisms were lost in his boisterous laughter. He hunched over and clutched his stomach, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Louis merely sat back and watched the spectacle with amusing eyes, his hand falling on Harry’s back and smoothing up and down. When he was done laughing, he sat upright, wiping at his eyes using his sleeve. He was suddenly aware that he was pressed up to Louis’ side, their thighs touching, their arms grazing. It made every single hair on his body rise.

“Hey,” Harry said quietly.

“Hey,” Louis repeated, his eyes hooded.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Louis saw this opportunity for something else. He leaned forward and touched his cheek gently, fingertips grazing on his skin. He pressed his mouth to his lips firmly, Harry’s mouth opening up instinctually. Louis licked inside him eagerly, tilting his head to the opposite direction. Louis was an expert at kissing with quick flicks of his tongue and his happy humming. He found himself trying to catch up but couldn’t, too mesmerized at how Louis would swipe his tongue back and forth professionally.

Harry felt himself drop lower until his back hit the seat. Louis straddled him and continued prying open his mouth further. He cupped his face in his hands and sucked on his bottom lip. Blood rushed to his lower lip, making it swollen and tingling. He moaned softly when Louis bucked his hips up, their clothes covered cocks grinding against each other. He fluttered his eyes shut and enjoyed the warm feeling Louis was giving him, spreading a flush across his cheeks and down his neck.

Louis’ hand slid under his shirt, his palm sliding up his skin. His pointer finger and thumb caught on his nipple, rolling it between his fingers and pulling it away. Another strangled moan escaped past his mouth, Louis biting down on the cushion of his lower lip and swallowing down his moans. He started kissing from his mouth to his neck, lathing his tongue underneath his jawline. Harry’s body started reacting to Louis’ touches. He gripped the edge of the seat because if he didn’t hold on to something, he was possibly going to die.

Louis’ quick fingertips worked on the button of his trousers while his mouth sucked a fresh bruise on the column of his throat.

“Wait,” Harry protested, pushing Louis’ hands away.

Louis stopped immediately, looking up at him through endless rows of dark eyelashes.

“Sorry,” he breathed, his voice sober. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Harry shook his head fervently. A tiny voice inside him was screaming, ‘What the fuck are you doing moron? Louis Tomlinson is insinuating something more and you’re stopping him? Do you want to die a virgin?’ And no, Harry Styles did not want to die a virgin. Especially if it meant he got to be deflowered by Louis Tomlinson of all people.

“I just wanna know…” Harry said, his voice trembling and on the verge of crying because he was embarrassingly hard already. Has been since the moment Louis kissed him. “I don’t wanna do _that_ tonight. Sorry, but, I—I’m a virgin. And I don’t wanna lose my virginity on the backseat of a car.”

“Oh,” Louis said, his voice deflating.

He dropped his hands off Harry’s chest. His perfectly curved eyebrows twitched, his mouth propped open on a surprised 'o.'

"That’s alright. Nothing wrong with that. I’m fine with just snogging.”

“No,” Harry argued, embarrassed. Color rose to his cheeks, splattering a bright dusty rose. “Just because I don’t wanna do _that_ doesn’t mean I don’t wanna do anything tonight. Please, just, everything _but_.”

Louis nodded slowly. He said, “Everything but,” tasting the words in his mouth. Harry nodded further. A small smile worked its way over on his face, his eyes lighting up. “Alright, Curly. Everything _but_ it is.”

Harry’s face broke out into a smile. Louis leaned in and resumed his kissing without a beat, his tongue flicking inside experimentally. This time, he felt braver than when they first started now that he knew where tonight was heading to, palming Louis’ perfect arse. Louis smiled into the kiss and bucked his hips upwards, gyrating slowly on Harry’s lap. Harry groaned low in his throat and threw his head back, exposing the long column of his throat. Louis lathed his tongue on his salty skin, ribbing his teeth on sensitive flesh every now and then.

Louis’ hand traveled down his body until it reached his unbuttoned trousers. He slipped his hand inside and gripped Harry through his boxers. Harry dropped his mouth open, eliciting a low groan from perfect, surprised lips. Louis properly took him in his hand and started jerking him off. At every upstroke, he twisted his wrist just so and caused Harry to moan louder.

“Tell me about your family,” Louis said, rubbing his hand harder, deeper.

Harry’s brows twitched together while Louis massaged him through his pants, his calm face the demeanor of a polite, posh boy. His eyes darted over the ceiling, feeling his body wrack with a shudder as Louis’ warm palm slid wetly on his cock.

“You want me to talk about my family while you’re…” Harry's voice trembled.

He was so close to coming that he had to close his eyes tightly and bite his lower lip. Louis’ hand worked expertly over his cock, his thumb soothing the bumpy underside of his cock every so often.

“While you’re jerking me off?”

“Wanna see if you can come like this. Plus, I’m mildly interested.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Hm. Everything, I suppose. You have a sister?”

Harry swallowed hard. His mouth felt dry and wet with too much saliva at the same time. He gripped the edge of the seat between clenched fingers and slid his eyes to Louis’ calm face, his eyebrows the only giveaway that he was determined for Harry to see stars. He groaned and leaned his head back, focusing on Louis’ questions.

“I do. She’s older than me.”

“I have five. I bet yours is lovely.”

“She is. She’s great. Ah fuck, that’s really good.”

Louis had progressed from jerking him rhythmically to sucking him off. He sucked on his head, his tongue darting out to flick at his salty slit. He transitioned from lathing his tongue on the underside of his cock to occasionally sucking wet bites along his thigh, leaving a trail of mouth shaped bruises in its wake. His mouth was sinful, his teeth were sharp, and Harry was going to die from a blowjob.

“How about your mum?” Louis asked, resuming his slow strokes.

Every time he pushed up his cock through his clenched fist, his angry red head would bump against Louis’ lips. Harry would sometimes buck up his hips for the tip of his cock to slide wetly in between his lips.

“She’s great too. She’s really warm, very loving, very supportive. She—“

Louis gently pulled Harry's foreskin down, precome blurting out from the slit. He kissed the tip of his head tenderly before sucking him whole into his mouth. He slurped obscenely while his hand massaged his balls. Harry rose up, swaying his hips back and forth so his cock would delve in deeper into Louis’ hot mouth.

“She wants me to become a doctor or a lawyer.”

“Oh, really? So which one is it? Dr. Styles or Mr. Styles?”

“Neither,” Harry sighed, settling back on the seat. He watched Louis perched between his thighs, his small amused smile glowing in the darkness. He had a dollop of come on the corner of his mouth. “I don’t think I want to be either.”

Louis' thumb swiped over his wet head, his other hand still massaging his sensitive balls. He gripped the base of his cock and admired the pretty shade of rose that dusted over Harry’s wet head. Usually Louis didn’t find cocks very appealing nor did he ever like giving blowjobs, but Harry was becoming the only exception.

“Why not? You know, my father’s a lawyer. If you ever change your mind I think he still has some law textbooks laying around for you to borrow.”

“I dunno. Not really my thing. And I know,” Harry exhaled, licking his dry lips.

“You know that my father’s a lawyer? Didn’t peg you to be a stalker, Styles. Now what else do you know?” Amusement colored Louis’ voice, causing the high points of his cheeks to flush.

“There’s talk at school,” Harry replied, feigning casualty.

It was really hard to remain calm when his crush was holding his foreskin down, his delicate hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

“What do you hear?”

“That you were born into a wealthy family. You have five little sisters that you love them all. And…” Harry exhaled a shuddery sigh, licking his swollen lips again. He relaxed his body on the seat, practically falling loose and pliant underneath Louis’ hands. “And your dream is to get accepted into Julliard’s school of acting.” He fluttered his eyes awake, his mouth falling open. “Oh! And that your mum’s a fantastic nurse and your stepdad is a lawyer. Though you mentioned he was your dad, so…”

Louis hummed low in his throat. His eyes had momentarily softened, taking on the expression of hearts spilling from his eyes. Almost like fond which was, different, because Harry never experienced someone looking fond over his cock no matter how many people complimented it.

"Yeah,” Louis smiled, the head of Harry’s cock bumping his smiling lips on every upstroke. “I call him dad ‘cause he was more of a real one than my actual dad.”

Harry spread his legs open. He smiled softly down at Louis, momentarily forgetting about his cock slipping and sliding in Louis’ hand. But then he leaned down and opened his mouth wide, sucking him until he hit the back of his throat. He hummed these low, needy moans that echoed against the walls of the car. He felt himself sink into the seat even with Louis’ hands on his thighs, rubbing the skin soothingly. Louis’ mouth was impossibly hot and wet and this might be one of the best goddamn blowjobs Harry has ever received.

Louis pulled back, licking his shining red lips and looking up at Harry, studying him intently.

“Are your parents together?”

“Nah. They divorced when I was small.”

Louis rubbed Harry’s leg while he rubbed Harry’s cock in the other hand. He pressed his face in between his legs and bit Harry’s inner thigh, lathing out his tongue to soothe out the red blooming outwards. Harry groaned and shifted his legs, accommodating for Louis to nuzzle in as he pleased.

“Same,” Louis murmured, his mouth occupied between alternating leaving love bites on his thighs or sucking the head of his cock.

As Louis continued leaving a trail of fresh mouth shaped bruises on his thighs, he took the time to fully appreciate Harry’s body. The neckline of his shirt was dragged down enough so to reveal his sharp collarbones, perfect for his mouth to suck on. His arms were muscled and long, long fingers adorned in several rings. The end of his shirt was crumpled and pushed up, showing off the last row of his abs and his happy trail, traveling downwards. Harry was hairy but not dramatically so, just the perfect amount of light hair dusted over his groin and his inner thighs. Louis admired his face most of all, the way his lips were swollen and bitten red, his cheeks flushed and dappled with sweat, his eyes glistening with obvious lust. Louis licked his lips for show, watching Harry watch him.

“So what do you want to be?” Louis asked, his gaze unwavering.

Harry looked at him surprised, still confused as to why Louis thought it was necessary to ask questions when his hand was working over his cock.

“A photographer. Or maybe an English teacher?”

“Why do you say it in a form of a question?” Louis asked, thumbing the slit and spreading the come down the sides of his slick cock. His eyebrow arched, his eyes curious and blue. His hand was warm where it slid on his inner thigh, catching beads of sweat that were starting to form there. “Not confident about what you wanna do?”

“Not really, no.”

Louis hummed. He slid his hand up, his fingers curling over the end of his crumpled tee. He released it and splayed his fingers over his belly, where it rose up and down with Harry’s shaky breaths. Louis smiled faintly and continued to stroke him gently, the smell of Harry’s slightly sweaty skin racing up his nostrils. Usually when other people sweat, their odor was sharp and musky, but Harry’s was clean and spicy.

“You’re big.”

“Thank you.”

"Is this your first time receiving a blowjob?"

"What?" Harry’s eyebrows pinched together. His eyes slid to Louis’ face, his eyebrow arched. He fluttered his eyes closed and shook his head side to side. "No. Do you think I haven’t gotten any? That nobody else would wanna touch me?" he asked, offended.

Louis’ hand stopped moving. Harry’s eyes flickered to his, alert.

“N-No.” For the first time that night, Louis was rendered speechless. No longer was that smooth player talk, it was as if Harry was seeing him for the first time. Louis touched the center of his chest, wide-eyed and honest. “I didn’t mean to offend you, really. I was simply asking genuinely.”

Harry sighed, tilting his head. He believed him and breathed out an, “Okay.” Besides, he didn’t want to stop Louis and his hot mouth.

As if on cue, Louis leaned down and took him inside his warm mouth. He started bopping his head, his rhythm picking up faster and deeper. A moan was ripped out of his throat, his thighs shaking, his hands clenching the seat.

Louis planted his hands on his thighs and pressed down, almost as if he knew he was making Harry fall apart just by using his mouth. It was bloody unfair. He was seconds away from coming just by the sight of him. His cheeks were splattered a bright pink, his fringe sticking to his forehead with sweat. His long eyelashes fanned out across his high cheekbones, his brows furrowed in concentration. He looked like an absolute dream.

His cock slipped out of his shining lips. “I think a lot of people have touched you before me. I mean…” Louis’ eyes raced up and down Harry’s body. Harry felt himself flush with his lingering gaze. “Look at you. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Harry said again, touched.

“Is this different than all the other blowjobs?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“You’re really—” Harry's words died in his throat. Louis’ lips were back on his cock again. His mouth froze on unspoken words, Louis’ mouth working quickly over his cock. Spit and precome dribbled down the sides of his cock, painting him white. “You’re…” he started, his breath getting caught in his throat. “You’re so fucking good at it. And you get me so wet.”

A small smile curled Louis’ lips, Harry’s cock protruding his cheek outwards.

“The others couldn’t get you wet?”

His cock slipped out of his mouth, Louis taking his time to rub his hands on the tops of Harry’s thighs. Harry was grateful for the breather; he didn’t know how to warn Louis that he was seconds away from coming. So far, he has been doing extremely well keeping it under control and not embarrassing himself like he usually did.

“No,” Harry said and relaxed in the seat.

Louis dragged his blunt fingernails down his thighs, his eyebrow quirked high. He started pressing chaste kisses to his skin, complete opposite to his hot mouth sucking him in. The gesture was sweet and Harry appreciated that. He was impressed Louis could go from swallowing him whole to kissing him soft and gentle.

“I’m glad.”

Harry bit his lip in anticipation as Louis gripped the base of his cock, licking his lips to ready himself. He sucked him in, his tongue lathing the underside of his cock. Harry rolled his eyes to the back of his head, lolling his head on his neck. He felt pliant whenever Louis touched him.

“Louis,” he moaned weakly, his eyelids shimmering.

He turned his head side to side and gripped his stomach, digging his nails in. Louis hummed around his cock, sending tiny vibrations crawling up his spine. He felt an overwhelming surge of pleasure of Louis’ tongue working expertly around his cock, the tip of his cock entering his throat. He felt Louis’ jaw visibly relax and took him all the way in, Harry’s head hitting the back of his throat and delve in deeper. He gasped and bucked up his hips. He bit his lower lip to prevent any whine to escape out of his bitten lips.

“If you don’t stop soon I’m gonna come…I’m so close…Lou, you gotta stop,” he begged, his voice octaves deeper. His knees shook as Louis ignored him and sucked harder, his lips a vice like grip around his cock. “I’m gonna fucking come if you don’t move, I swear. Louis!”

At that, Louis pulled away. He licked his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He licked a fat, broad stripe from base to tip, willing Harry’s body to shake. “I want you to come inside my mouth. Or on my face. Whichever you prefer,” Louis said, his face calm and his voice somber. Harry on the other hand felt like passing out any second now.

Harry could only gape at him, wide-eyed and lips red.

“I just might die before I come,” he said, his voice close to a whine.

Louis merely laughed and began sucking him again. His tongue flicked back and forth across his salty skin, droplets of come dribbling on his tongue and disappearing. Harry couldn’t resist and so he reached over and carded his fingers through Louis’ shiny, brown hair. As he suspected, his hair was light and soft to the touch. He gripped him tight while Louis’ mouth tightened around his cock.

Louis bopped his head faster and deeper. Harry was mesmerized, watching his lips work over his cock with his eyes closed. He thumbed his cheek and watched helplessly as Louis sucked him in, his mouth hot and wet. He gasped sharply when he felt himself hit the back of his throat again. This time Louis didn’t stop. He hummed around his cock and bopped his head deeper, Harry’s head bumping the entrance of his throat on every pull. His toes curled, his hands fisting Louis’ hair.

“Lou, I’m so close. Gonna fucking come.”

Louis nodded and tightened his lips, gripping the base of his cock and shaking his head, his tongue reverberating enthusiastically.

Harry spread his legs open farther. His lower back arched into the air as he felt pleasure rapidly wash over every inch of skin, his sensors on overload. He clenched his eyes shut and moaned loudly, his throat ringing with shocked breaths. He shot hot and white into Louis’ mouth, continuing to moan as he felt himself empty on Louis’ tongue. Louis’ tongue swirled around his head and pulled off completely. His tongue darted out to lick at his salty slit one last time. He wiped his mouth and rubbed Harry’s thighs again. He looked up at Harry with shining eyes and red glistening lips. He regained even, deep breaths and watched him with stars in his eyes. He thumbed spit off Louis’ lower lip.

“You’re incredible,” he breathed, his words trembling.

Harry's body melted in the seat, his lower belly sucking in breaths. Louis laughed quietly and straddled him, his bum covering Harry’s cock. His cock nestled in between Louis’ arse cheeks while he leaned in and sucked a hot kiss to his top lip. Harry opened his mouth and tasted himself on Louis’ tongue, tasting a little salty. Louis rubbed his arms and smiled into the kiss. Harry pulled away and smiled, his mouth exhaling out breathless laughter.

“That was the hardest I’ve ever come. Thank you.”

Louis laughed loudly then, his bright laugh filling the empty spaces in Harry’s life. His laugh echoed off the walls inside the car, splayed brightly on the floor, painted the ceiling in bright colors. Harry cupped his cheeks and kissed him again. He was too happy to kiss him, his smiling lips pressed to his.

He looked at Louis’ crinkled eyes, laugh lines set deep in the corners of his mouth. He kissed them and smoothed his thumbs under his eyes. Their laughs diminished into quiet smiles.

“For the record,” Harry said, voice low. Louis’ eyes chased his, unblinking. “I like you too.”

Louis laughed again, openly and loud, and Harry let kiss him again. They kissed for the remainder of the night until their lips were swollen and numb. Afterwards, he fell asleep on Louis’ chest as they slid the top down and watched the blinking stars.

It was damn near perfect. _No_ , Harry thought, as his eyes slid shut and he heard the hammering of Louis’ heart in his chest. _It was perfect._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who likes Louis to be in submissive in bed? I know I do.
> 
> We dig a little deeper into their sex driven lives. A little bit of fluff, a lot of smut, and a little smudge of oblivious mums walking in on their sons doing gay sexual activities. Enjoy!

* * *

Harry got grounded after all.

He came home last night red handed, his backpack slung over his shoulders and pink cheeked with kissed-bitten lips, his curls dabbed to his forehead with sweat. He was still running high on adrenaline from kissing Louis, his lips numb and tingling, his limbs heavy from lingering exhaustion. Des took one good look at him and asked about the missing beers which Harry confessed to immediately. Lying was never his forte, really.

So here he was, the next night, pacing around in his room mindlessly all day while he ignored Niall’s update texts of the footie match tonight. His only regret was not being able to watch Louis run across the pitch with vehemence.

Apparently they had won according to Niall’s last text and they were all headed to the new club downtown to celebrate in drunken cheer. Harry felt the pang of his heart of not being able to celebrate along with him, especially if Louis was going to be in attendance.

Instead, he splayed out on his bed in a starfish form and stared at the ceiling, counting down the minutes until his eyelids fluttered shut with sleep.

He was just about to knock out when a pebble peppered the window. He sat up in bed, rubbing his hands on his tired face. Another pebble. His eyebrows pinched together as he padded over to the window, opening it and staring out at the culprit. Louis. He was waving at him from the ground, shoving his hands in his shorts pockets and smiling shyly up at him.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, his voice shrill.

“Figured you might be lonely. Did I wake you up?”

“No,” Harry lied, biting on his lower lip to tamp down his smile. “Come up here before my mother catches you.”

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair,” Louis called out, his voice smug.

“Yeah, alright.”

Harry rolled his eyes fondly and left the window open. The beautiful bastard probably thought he was being clever. He watched Louis climb up the ladder and throw his leg over the windowsill. He helped him up by holding his hands and pulling him in. Louis stumbled in with a harried smile, his features smoothing out. His eyes raced up and down Harry’s body, unabashedly checking him out. Harry’s cheeks flushed.

Louis whistled lowly. “Nice pajamas, Styles.”

“Shh!” Harry clamped a hand over his mouth, silencing his teasing. He dropped it with quirked lips. “I was about to go to sleep before you so rudely interrupted me.”

“Interrupted you, eh?” he asked, his eyebrow arched.

Harry nodded, his lip tucking under his two front teeth. “C’mon,” Louis urged, tugging on his hand. He dropped down on the bed and sprawled his legs open, pulling Harry along with him. Harry complied happily and slipped in between his thighs, straddling him. Louis ran his knuckles on Harry’s arms, causing his skin to flush with goosebumps.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating with the guys?” Harry asked quietly.

Louis shrugged his shoulders the best that he could laying down. He continued absentmindedly stroking Harry’s skin, his gaze contemplative. Harry loved that he did that, that he stroked his skin just for the sake of touching.

“Wanted to come see you if that’s alright with you. The lads, they’re alright, but they’re not as charming as you.”

Harry brightened up at his sweet words. Usually Louis would be the one showered in praise, but having Louis’ undivided attention on him struck him like lightning, alighting him on fire. He felt warm all over, the corners of his lips tugging up on a secretive smile.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed. “That’s more than alright with me.”

He leaned down, his lips barely brushing Louis’. He felt the flutter of electricity zip through him in flying colors. Every touch, every caress, every smile made him feel alive. Louis tilted his head, opening up his mouth for Harry’s tongue to delve inside. The only sounds heard were their hot bruising mouths, lips smacking and breaths stuttered in the quiet room.

Harry felt blood rush to his groin, filling up his cock. He couldn’t help it. Louis Tomlinson was in his room laying in his bed underneath him. He was still dressed in his kit, his slightly disheveled hair stuck to his forehead and his cheek dappled with sweat. He smelled like sweat and clean cut grass.

Harry licked into his mouth, reveling in the way Louis parted open his mouth and breathed out these soft, little sighs. He wanted to hear it louder, needier, so he shoved his hand down Louis’ shorts and gripped him firmly. A broken moan pulled from Louis’ throat, his eyes flying open. He started jerking him off with quick flicks of his wrist. Louis groaned and pushed himself up off the bed, twisting his hips rhythmically along to Harry’s tugs. He was like music on his fingertips, his hips swaying and body attuned to Harry’s touches.

Harry bit hard on his lower lip, causing the other boy to writhe on the bed below him.

"Harry,” he whined, his glimmering eyelids shut.

Harry let a small smile bloom across his face, feeling his cock from base to tip. From what he could feel, Louis wasn’t terribly long but he was deliciously thick in girth. It led him to imagine how Louis would feel pressed up behind him, his hand on his shoulder or on his waist, pushing unbearably tight inside. He shuddered at the thought, his fingertips grazing the underside of Louis’ swelling cock.

Louis fluttered his eyes open, the color of his blue eyes darkened with lust. He kissed Harry deeply, swiping his tongue back and forth. Harry shook his head, moaning with Louis’ soft tongue inside. Louis pulled away with spit slicked lips, the highest points of his cheeks already flushed a pretty pink.

He thumbed under Harry’s right eye. “Harry,” he repeated, his voice a slow drawl. “Tell me what you want.”

“I—I…” He was rendered speechless, even though Louis was the one receiving a handjob. He gripped Louis’ cock in his wet palm, Louis humming and bucking up his hips. “I wanna eat you out.”

Louis’ eyes shot open at that. His lips parted open, breaths of air puffing out onto Harry’s pink cheeks. There was this moment where everything went silent, save for their quiet breathing. Harry felt his heart thrum rapidly in his chest, like a hummingbird’s wings. He was waiting for Louis’ answer, a confirmation, a deny, anything.

He wanted to know how Louis tasted like. If he tasted a little bit salty like salted caramel or something musky and warm like drizzling chocolate. He also wanted to know how Louis looked in the mornings, with his rumpled tee and pillow littered cheeks. He wanted to know if Louis liked to eat sweets for breakfast or if he liked to eat breakfast for dinner.

He wanted to know all these things and so much more that it should scare him but it didn’t, because if there was a tiny sliver of chance that Louis felt the same, then there was hope blooming inside Harry’s ribcage. Like a single flower growing amidst all the garbage through a crack in the pavement. There was still hope.

“Hazza,” Louis implored, his eyes searching Harry’s face. He cupped his cheek in one hand, the other smoothing down to where his heart beat the hardest. “You sure?”

Harry nodded furiously with finality. “Been thinking about it all day.” And just because he was a little bit mesmerized and lustrous and drunk with what felt like love or lust, he couldn’t tell, he revealed, “Wanna know what you taste like.”

“Baby,” Louis crooned, his voice too soft in the quiet air. He gripped Harry’s cheeks and squished them together. “Whatever you want. Anything you want. Yes, God, please.”

And just the thought of eating out Louis has him blanking out for a moment, his thick cock pressed on his upper thigh, flickers of reds and blacks flashing behind his eyelids. He rubbed Louis’ hipbone, warm and smooth, signaling him to turn around. He wanted to see him on his back too, so he could gauge his every reaction and moan, but he wanted to see his glorious talked about arse desperately more.

Louis obliged and turned around, the side of his face squished on the pillow. Harry dipped the waistline of his shorts just below the swell of his arse. He lowered them on his thighs, causing Louis’ arse to plump out even more. His mouth positively watered at the sight. His arse was big, not terribly so, hairless and the perfect size for Harry’s large hands to palm over.

He licked his lips and dropped his heavy hand, producing a striking sound when it smacked Louis’ arse. Louis shifted and groaned, raising his knee on the mattress. Harry dropped his hand again on his other cheek, his arse jiggling afterwards. The color red bloomed like a flower on his cheeks, painting him pink in stark contrast to his golden skin. He kissed each of his cheeks, palming his arse and occasionally biting and licking at his sweet, caramel skin.

All the while Louis grunted and moaned and whined on the mattress, fussing on the unmade bed and gripping the bedsheets with white knuckled fists. Harry’s thumbs pulled his cheeks apart, leaning down and pressing his face in between. Tentative, kitten licks licked him open, relishing in the taste. Louis tasted musky, earthy, edging towards cinnamon. Harry flicked his tongue around the ring of muscle, teasing, tasting the waters.

Small needy moans escaped past Louis’ mouth, and Harry was not even sure if he meant to be emitting these sounds, but he was helpless as Louis squirmed on the bed below him. He lathed his tongue on his skin and licked a fat, broad stripe up. He massaged his arse in slow circles, his mouth licking him open again.

A loud gasp echoed off the walls. Harry smiled infinitesimally as his tongue delved inside deeper, spreading him open with his tongue. Louis was subconsciously pushing his arse back, his knees digging into the mattress, his parted mouth repeating a mantra of, “Harry, Harry, Harry.” Harry hummed low in his throat, sending tiny vibrations up inside Louis. A shudder wracked his entire body, made him loose and pliant, open around his tongue.

Harry pressed in a finger without warning, causing Louis’ body to simultaneously freeze and clench around the digit. Harry thumbed his sharp hipbone, distracting Louis from the stretched pleasure. After a few moments, Louis sank in bed, the ring of muscle puckering around Harry’s knuckle and accommodating the stretch. He licked him open using his pointer finger and tongue, swirling his tongue around the puckered rim. 

When he felt Louis’ body relax, he pressed in a second finger. Louis moaned loudly, sharp breaths of air eliciting from bitten lips. The stretched ring of muscle was loose enough so that Harry replaced his fingers with his tongue. He jabbed his tongue in, hot and wet and insistent, mimicking the motion of sex using his tongue. Louis pushed his arse back farther in his face, his feet planted firmly on the mattress.

Harry could feel his thighs shaking. He smoothed warm palms up and down his trembling legs. Louis sighed and pushed forwards, caught between rubbing his leaking cock on the mattress and pushing his arse back onto Harry’s face. Harry made the decision for him. He wrapped an arm around his waist and paused his movements. He pushed his face in deeper and licked him open, his tongue pushing inside his tight heat.

He spat on Louis’ clenching hole, dripping down the crease of his fuzzy thighs. Harry thumbed the remaining spit off his thumb, tasting warm and musky. He pulled apart his arse with his thumbs and flicked his tongue back and forth. He pressed his lips to his wet hole and sucked in, slurping his spit.

Louis writhed below him. He grunted out, “Fuck, Harry,” with his eyes closed, his whole body tense. He reached behind him and carded his fingers through Harry’s hair, clenching a fistful of hair. Harry was pulled back, a loud gasp pulling from his throat.

“You like that?” Louis asked, his voice physically strained. “You like being manhandled?”

Harry could only nod weakly. Louis tugged again, sharp jabs of pain prickling his scalp. But Harry loved it. Loved the battle between pain and pleasure. He wasn’t majorly kinky in bed but he loved the pain more than anything else. Louis soothed the blooming pain and tugged again, softer this time. It pulled a moan from Harry’s throat, his lips slicked with spit. Louis shoved two fingers in his mouth and Harry fluttered his eyes closed, tightening his lips around his digits.

“You filthy thing,” Louis mused, his voice pinged with lust. “First my arse then my fingers. There’s not a part of me that you won’t put in your mouth, is there?”

Harry shook his head with Louis’ two fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirled from base to tip, sucking on them with determination. He slightly bit on them, Louis flinching and pulling his hand way. He chased after his fingers with flushed dappled cheeks, his eyes glimmering.

He palmed Louis’ arse and slicked his tongue back inside. Louis tasted a little bit salty, combinations of salted caramel and cinnamon induced chocolate whirring by inside his head. But he tasted more sweet than anything else. He hummed and slurped the stickiness, his tongue dipping in and out repeatedly.

Louis’ sharp moans rang in the air. Harry pulled away and ribbed his teeth on his sensitive flesh just above his puckered hole. Louis’ stuttering hips stopped. He gripped Harry’s curls and tugged back sharply, Harry’s mouth falling open in pleasure.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Harry wanted to trace his thumb on the curved arches of his eyebrows. He licked his bitten lip and pouted.

"I thought you would like it,” he offered, his voice polite.

Louis’ eyes narrowed. He released his grip from Harry’s hair. “No comment,” he said, turning around and avoiding Harry’s curious gaze.

Warm puffs of air smoothed over his open hole. Harry chuckled and brought his face to the crease of his arse again, licking his swollen lips in anticipation. He thumbed his cheeks apart and delved inside, his tongue not wasting a moment’s breath and licking him open. His tongue was eager to lap up Louis' dripping arse and fuck into him. Slow, incandescent minutes ticked by where slurping sounds were made from his tongue.

His face was pressed in between his cheeks, moving his head to cause friction on his wet tongue. Louis cried out and shoved his sweaty, red flustered face in the pillows. His arms were crossed above his head, his arse stuck out in the air.

Harry struck down both hands for a slap. He smoothed his palms over the red blotchy skin, continuing to slap him one, two, three more times. Louis whined in response, soft whimpers emitting from the pillows. Harry smacked him again, watching how the red bloomed down his inner thighs.

He lathed his tongue up and down and circled around the rim. He pursed his lips around his clenching hole and sucked in, saliva dripping down his chin. Judging by how Louis’ thighs shook reverently, his toes clenching, Harry knew he was close.

He slipped his hand to his smooth, warm skin and gripped the base of Louis’ cock. Louis gasped out sweet relief, his cock twitching in his sticky palm. Harry pulled the foreskin down and thumbed over the head, paying special attention to his blurting precome slit. He gripped him tightly again and began pumping his cock, dribbles of precome sliding down his fist.

Low, guttural moans pulled from Louis’ throat. His eyes were clenched tight with beads of sweat racing down the sides of his face. Harry bit back a grin and continued to jerk him off contently. He was painfully hard just from watching Louis, hearing Louis, tasting Louis.

His hand was slick from precome, easily tugging him off. He pressed his lips to the crease of his arse, kissing the flushed skin there. He spent hazy seconds there with his lips pressed to the crevice of his arse, his fist wrapped tightly around him and working him to his orgasm. He flicked his wrist just so and Louis cried out, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Harry groaned and delved inside, thumbing apart his arse. He licked him open, his hand frantically working over his throbbing cock. His tongue jabbed inside at the same time he flicked his wrist, Louis shouting out a moan. His thighs quivered as he splattered white all over the sheets and Harry’s hand. He jerked him off through his orgasm, intently watching Louis fall apart. Louis released a shaky sigh and fell limp on the bed.

Harry removed his hand and brought it to his mouth, lathing over the stickiness of his palm. He gave each finger the same, inevitably slow treatment. Louis watched him with hooded eyes, his cheeks flushed red and his arse curved sinfully. He looked like Harry’s wet dream.

Fingertips stroked his burning skin, smoothing his palm up and down the sides of his body. Harry leaned down and pressed his mouth to his. Louis complied happily, tasting himself off of Harry’s tongue. He hummed in the kiss, carding his fingers through Harry’s slightly sweaty locks.

“That was…” Louis trailed off, his eyes glistening.

Harry thumbed the dry tears tracks on his cheeks. “Amazing? Wonderful? Mind-blowing?” he supplied, his lips quirked.

“All those things and more,” Louis said, his smiling face mirroring Harry’s.

There was this moment where they simply stared at each other. Harry drank him in. His long fringe swept across his left eye, his cheeks littered with pillow creases and a blush, his collarbones pooled in sweat. He was so fucking beautiful.

He cupped his face and leaned in again, pulling on his lower lip. His lips felt numb when he heard footsteps prodding near. He panicked, looking at Louis with wide eyes. He looked down between their bodies, a swell of panic building inside his chest, realizing they were both still fully naked.

“Harry,” Louis began, orgasmic hazy and soft.

“I need you to be quiet!” Harry whispered, clamping his hand over his mouth.

Louis hummed behind his closed mouth, his eyes darting to and fro. “Sorry for this,” Harry rushed out in one quick breath. He flung the duvet over Louis’ limp body and hastily pulled on his boxers. He covered the lump on the bed (Louis’ body) with his own body and posed. The doorknob turned. In came Harry’s mum, carrying a wastebasket.

“Mum!” Harry yelled, panic on the edge of his voice.

“Oh!” she yelped. She looked him up and down, eyeing the flush that crept down his neck and chest, his sweaty face, his damp curls. “Hi, honey. Sorry to barge in on you like this. Came to do some laundry.”

“Mum, can I get a bit of privacy please?” he urged, exasperation coloring his voice.

She chuckled lowly. “Sure sweets, let me just get your clothes.”

She started picking up haphazardly thrown clothes off the floor, placing them in the wastebasket. Harry’s eyes widened. The shirt she picked up was too small for his size. It could only belong to one person. _Louis_.

“Hmm. Didn’t know you stretched, baby. Maybe we need to go clothes shopping someday, huh?” she said, plucking up a small kit with her index finger and thumb.

“Yeah. Sure mum,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck faux casually.

She nodded her assent and picked up the last of Louis’ clothes, shutting the door behind her. He sighed heavily, biting down on the bottom of his lip hard. He tasted the metallic tinge of blood. A muffled voice came from somewhere below him.

“Oh,” he whispered. He climbed off of Louis’ body as the lump struggled to escape the duvet. Harry chuckled and helped him out. A tuft of brown, shiny hair poked through. Louis’ scrunched up face appeared, breathing out harshly.

“I almost died in there,” he said roughly, pulling off the blankets and combing through his messy fringe. “You don’t look it but you weigh a ton, Styles.”

“Sorry about that. Maybe I should’ve locked the door.”

“Yeah, well. Next time.”

“Next time?” Harry asked hopefully. He willed the butterflies in his stomach to stop fluttering.

“Obviously.” Louis threw a smirk over his shoulder, disassembling himself from the cocoon of blankets. He crawled out of bed and started looking for his clothes, lifting up the end of the duvet to peek for his kit. “I’m not done with you yet. Hey, by any chance, have you seen my clothes?”

Harry swallowed. “Um,” he said, watching Louis. Louis stood up straight and ran his hand through his hair. His cock hung heavily on his thigh, bouncing with every step. Harry wanted to drop down to his knees and suck him off, the taste of him still lingering on his tongue. Something about Louis made arousal stir inside his belly, even after tasting his delicious, golden skin. “I think my mum took your kit.”

“Oh.” Louis dropped his hand. He narrowed his eyes but a small smile still tugged on his lips. “That’s okay. I’ll just tell coach to give me another number, no biggie. You can stay with the twenty-eight.”

Harry’s brows scrunched together. “Hey, no.” He reached out for his arm, his fingertips grazing his skin. “I’ll bring you your kit when my mum’s done washing it.”

Louis looked down where his fingertips touched his skin. Harry removed his arm reluctantly. But when Louis looked up at him again, his slow heavy gaze left tendrils of heat licking at his skin. Harry smiled at him, smitten.

Louis arched an eyebrow. Harry coughed into his fist, awkward. “Right then. I’ll get you some clothes.” He fumbled with the clothes in his closet and grabbed a soft jumper and track pants to match.

“Here,” he said, producing them.

A faint smile worked over Louis’ lips.

“Thanks,” he said, before grabbing the clothes from his hands and walking to the restroom to change.

Even though Harry had seen every body part of him, Louis still changed in the other room, feeling much more intimate now that they weren’t lust driven and sex crazed.

Harry waited patiently while Louis changed. He grabbed a fresh clean pair of boxer briefs and pulled them on, foregoing a shirt and pulling on some black sweatpants instead. The door nicked after him, Louis walking out looking soft and cozy.

Harry wanted to cuddle him to his chest. Lay with him until he fell asleep and spend all night watching him sleep. Admire the way his long eyelashes casted spidery shadows on his cheeks or the way his chest would rise up and down with his even breaths. He wanted to rouse Louis from sleep by kissing him gently, just soft brushes of their lips, or cup his cheeks and kiss him passionately. He wanted to see how Louis looked like in the mornings, with disheveled hair and pillow creased cheeks.

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“You’re…” he began, at a loss for words.

If Harry could be anything in the world, he would choose to be a sunflower. Because they represented good luck and was considered very auspicious. Especially because they symbolized happiness too. He thought Louis was his happiness, no matter how many little days they knew each other. Then, he could grow in the direction of the sunlight, because Louis was a little ray of sunshine in his life.

"You’re beautiful Louis.”

Louis ran a hand through his hair, fluffing up the front.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice a gentle tone. “So,” he thumbed behind his shoulder, “Best get going then.”

Harry deflated a little at the words. He didn’t expect for Louis to stay over, how could he when they both had school the next morning but he still felt slightly disappointed. He was getting accustomed to Louis’ presence that he didn’t want to let him go. Not yet.

“Sure. Yeah, you’re right,” Harry said coolly.

Harry made way to the closed door while Louis headed to the window. “Um,” he started, confused, his eyebrows twitching together. “Your mum might catch me. It’s safer this way,” Louis explained.

“Right. Didn’t know what I was thinking.”

Louis threw a leg over the windowsill, his other leg dangling inside Harry’s bedroom. Before he climbed down the steps he stared at Harry, his pale blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Hey. I had fun tonight.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright.” Harry smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll see you then.”

Louis’ eyes traced the curves of his abs. He looked back up at him, his smile twitching, his eyes glimmering. He flicked his hand in the air for a wave and climbed down. Harry smiled softly and went to the window, watching Louis hop off the last step and jog across his backyard.

He sighed and closed his window shut. He proceeded to his restroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. After he was done with his nighttime routine, he tasted fresh mint on his teeth, his tongue running along the back of his teeth. He splayed on his bed and covered his shoulders with the duvet.

He was dressed in only boxers, the sheets gliding across his hairless legs. He pressed his face to his pillow, the faint scent of Louis still lingering. He hugged the pillow to his chest and fluttered his eyes shut. His heart was still thrumming rapidly in his chest. He couldn’t sleep because he had Louis Tomlinson in his mind.

He rolled around until he laid on his back. His eyes darted across the ceiling where he taped glow in the dark stars when he was seven. He pressed his hand to his chest, feeling his pulse jack hammer wildly. He groaned and gripped himself through his boxers, his cock still filled up. He bit his lip and slid his hand down smooth warm skin past course hair until he reached the base of his heavily hung cock. Couldn't help but feel excited over the prospect of tomorrow. Thinking all the while,

_Louis Tomlinson will be the death of me._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We dive in a little deeper in Harry's mind.

* * *

****Harry and Louis have been shagging for quite some time now. Three weeks to be exact, almost nearing a month.

And every time after they came and they were both hazy and slow, Harry would crawl to Louis’ chest and breathe him in, the moment intimate. He would trace patters on his flushed skin, his cheek sticking to his chest. The words would get stuck in his throat. He wanted to ask, “What are we?” even if it was the most cliché of all cliché phrases.

But each time Louis would smile softly at him or fall asleep, shadows dancing on his features, Harry never worked up the courage to confess to him that somehow sex felt bigger for him. More momentous. Every touch, every kiss, every press of the fingertips, felt like an ode to Louis. That this was bigger than the both of them.

But Harry was a selfish coward and he was afraid that if he told Louis the reality, Louis would get scared and push him away. And that scared him most of all. So he would swallow down the words and accept whatever Louis was willing to give him. Hell, he was so smitten and endeared he would kiss his pretty toes if Louis as so much insinuated for him to.

Louis had a reputation to uphold. He told Harry clearly the first time they “hooked up” that he was straight and not out of the closet yet. Harry had nodded weakly and kissed him on the cheek, assuring him he was fine with a closeted hook up. But it didn’t hurt any less. Especially when Louis played up his hetero big persona. He would call Harry dude-bro-pal-laddy-lad in front of Niall, Liam and Zayn. Harry would catch him in the hallways kissing pretty brunettes on the cheeks and flirting unabashedly. It would sting.

But he only played it to his advantage. Afterwards, when they were alone or in the dark, Harry would tease him until he knew Louis was seconds away from coming, always making him beg for it. Always making him say, “I only want you Harry. Only you,” with quivering lips and shaking legs.

They had secret hook up places too. Places that were normal to the public eye. Like the locker room, for one, smelling of sweat, grass and excessive cologne, where Harry pushed Louis up against the lockers and fingered him open. Or the ratty old sofa used as a prop in the middle of the center stage, where Harry’s arms draped the back of the sofa, a plastic crown set atop his head while Louis sucked him off like a king. Or places more intimate, like the back of Louis’ car or Harry’s bedroom where they got to be wrapped up in each other with no prying eyes. Just the two of them. Those were Harry’s favorite spots.

Sometimes they challenged each other. Harry would work two fingers inside Louis, Louis begging pathetically for a third, and whisper in his ear that if he won tonight’s game Harry would eat him out all night. Obviously, Louis would run to the pitch all sweaty and pinch cheeked, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Of course, they would win. Later, Harry would lap up his tongue in his clenching hole in the showers at the lockers, Louis’ moans echoing off the tile walls. Sometimes Louis would take the lead and tell Harry that if he passed his exams with solid A’s, he would blow him off in the boys’ restrooms or the janitor’s closet whenever and however much he liked. Harry would stumble off the classroom with sparkling eyes, clutching a marked paper with a big bold letter A. Afterwards, he would straggle out of the janitor’s closet with flushed cheeks, his fly open. Ten minutes later Louis would stroll on by with a wet and flaming face, shining eyes and swollen lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

They challenged each other to be better, work harder, play faster. Harry very much liked their mutually beneficial ‘situation.’ They made it to a month on Louis’ big football match.

Harry felt the nerves radiating off of Louis in sparks. He thumbed his neck and massaged the tender skin in slow, wide circles. Louis lolled his head on his neck, his eyes fluttering shut. He moaned in pleasure, his head lolling to the direction of Harry’s thumbs digging in his neck. Harry had the self-constraint of Hercules, pressing the heel of his hand to his hardening length due to Louis’ moans. He couldn’t contain himself. Louis was so pretty and so pliant.

“You need to relax, Lou,” Harry whispered, pressing his lips to the base of his neck.

They were hidden in the janitor’s closet again. Except for once, they weren’t sucking each other off or shoving theirs hands down their fronts. As soon as Louis texted him _janitor’s closet asap. need ur good hnds_ Harry rushed off to the direction of their secret love spot. He was slightly disappointed when Louis wasn’t on his knees or had that same darkened hungry look in his eyes, but he felt infinitesimally better when he realized Louis needed him. To Louis it probably didn’t mean anything, but to Harry it meant everything.

“Can’t,” Louis murmured. His eyes were still shut, his head bent to the left. “Tonight’s the big match. If we win tonight’s game, we advance to the cup playoffs. Do you realize how huge that is for me?”

He turned around to face him. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pursed. Harry dropped his hands. He pressed his knees to his chest, placing his hands on top of them. Louis sat back on the opposite end of the closet, which wasn’t far, considering it was a tight, confined space.

“It means that a recruiter gets to watch me once we advance. It means a shot at getting accepted to the University of Manchester,” Louis said with stars in his eyes.

There were three things everybody needed to know about Louis Tomlinson. One, football was everything. Two, he liked the crusts cut off from his sandwiches. Three, it’s been his dream to attend the University of Manchester since he was eight years old.

Harry lifted up a shoulder, only to drop it. “I dunno,” he started, voice nonchalant. “Would it be so bad if you didn’t get in? I mean, University College London is near home.”

What he really wanted to say was,

_Would it be so bad if you didn’t go to the college of your dreams and instead came to a university and moved in with me?_

“Haz, are you crazy?” Louis shook his head from side to side. He flicked his hand in the air, his gestures dramatic. “It’s only been a dream of mine since—“

“You were eight years old, yeah, I get it,” Harry sighed.

He heard the plonk of his heart as it dropped to his stomach. He pressed his lips tight and looked at Louis, his gaze soft and imploring. Louis crawled on all fours and came closer, pressing his hands atop his on his knees. He gazed into his eyes, clear cut blue, and cupped his cheek.

“You get it, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded with as much fake enthusiasm as he could. He wanted to see Louis happy more than anything else. “I do.”

“Good,” Louis said, beaming bright.

He pecked him on the lips, just a quick brush of their lips when the door opened abruptly, light flooding in. They shielded their eyes from the blinding light, their eyes having adjusted to the darkness of the closet. How ironic that Harry was back in the closet with a closeted boy. This was his life apparently.

“Oi!” The janitor shouted, distressed. “Get the hell out of here you kids!”

Harry and Louis scrambled to their feet. They shouldered past him as the janitor gaped after them, mumbling incoherent curses. Louis giggled in the back of his hand as he pushed Harry along, hands on the tops of his shoulders. He let Louis drag him along to his next class, biting down on his smile. They arrived, Louis spinning him around to face him. He looked both ways in the empty hallway before standing up on his tiptoes, cupping his cheeks and kissing him softly. He pressed his lips to his, his tongue snaking out to trace along his bottom lip. Harry got a quick taste of him before it was gone, his lips tingling. He left pursuing his lips in an invisible kiss as Louis walked away, winking at him over his shoulder. And then he was gone.

A flush crept to his cheeks. He clutched his stomach where butterflies were soaring and walked inside his classroom. He sat at his desk and pressed a fist to his cheek. He was smiling dopily when a vibration buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, Louis’ name flashing across the bright screen.

_You are good with your hands ;)_

Harry bit back a giggle. He was about to shove his phone back in his pocket when the small device vibrated again in his hand. Another text from Louis.

_No, in all seriousness tho, thnx for that. You’re really sweet. Some might even say charming xx_

He thumbed back **Only you Louis Tomlinson** with smiling lips. Harry shook his head and shoved his phone back in his pocket. He bit on his lower lip and ceased his smile to get any bigger. He tried to listen to his teacher lecture but his mind was a cotton candy machine, whirring up thoughts of Louis Tomlinson and love and marriage.

Harry might already be falling into the bottom. But he didn’t seem to particularly care.

. . .

Harry roamed around the boys’ locker room, exchanging high fives with some of the mates on the football team he knew. Niall walked in front, shouting out encouragements and humming in reply as some of the guys slapped him on the arse. Only someone like Niall wouldn’t mind. Harry brushed past football players until his eyes landed on a short statured boy, his hair swept unruly atop his head. He placed his large hands to his waist, steadying him, pressing a kiss to his spine.

“Hey,” he said quietly, only meant for Louis to hear.

Louis turned around alarmed, wide blue eyes staring into his soul. “Hey mate,” he greeted, pushing Harry’s hands away and looking around frantically if anybody saw the small affection. Which hurt, a lot. Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"Sorry,” he mumbled, his low voice scattered with insecurity.

“Nothing to be sorry for mate.” Louis played his hetero reputation up.

At that moment, Niall approached them, slapping a hand to Louis’ shoulder. Thank God for Niall’s ability to break the awkwardness with ease.

“Mate!” he bellowed out in loud cheer, his voice pinged with mirth. Louis watched him with amusing eyes. “Kill it out there, will ya? We’re planning to go to Godfrey’s tonight to celebrate your anticipated win.”

Good Godfrey’s was a pristine bar with the glamour of the 1920’s, decked out in luxurious drinks and edible golden treats. Not to mention they beheld a crystal clear pool inside.

“Alright Nialler. I’ll do my best,” Louis said with smiling lips.

“That’s the spirit!” Niall clapped him on the back and ruffled his hair, Louis pawing him away.

Louis took off his shirt over his head with a smug gaze, watching Harry watch him. Harry looked him up and down, licking his bottom lip. Louis’ skin was coated in gold, his skin a caramel color. He had a tone chest and defined abs, a trail of barely hair there traveling down his groin. He also had a light dusting of hair over his chest and nipples, the color a light shade of red. Louis’ cheeks was blotched crimson red, his shining eyes staring intently at him. He looked like walking sex on legs. He was such a fucking tease.

"Remember about our deal tonight. Win tonight’s game and I’ll let you have me whichever way you want.”

His voice was a deep, slow drawl, dripping down his tongue like molasses. He saw Louis shiver visibly. His eyes flitted down to his lips then back again in his green eyes. He nibbled on his chapped lips.

He extended out a hand, Harry shaking it with a firm grip. Louis nodded at him and brushed past him. Harry watched him walk away, his gaze burning on the swell of his arse. He was a dream, wasn’t he? He sighed and fluffed up the front of his hair, murmuring out good luck’s and goodbye’s to the guys. He jogged up the steps to the bleachers to where Niall and Zayn were huddled together.

Niall was bunched up in sweaters, his fluffy scarf covering his mouth. Zayn was draped on the seat, looking like art itself with a lit cigarette loosely dangling off his lips. Wisps of smoke curled around in the air, tinging their clothes and hair with the bitter scent of nicotine. Harry sat down next to Zayn, who offered him a cigarette to which he denied politely.

“Your boy’s playing tonight?” Zayn asked, sucking perfect lips around the cigarette.

“Yes. And he’s not my boy,” Harry replied.

He couldn’t help the warm feeling pooling his insides at the words ‘your boy.’ Sure, the lads have picked up on their odd behavior, always the two of them attached at the hip and mysteriously missing after Louis’ successful wins, but like always, much to Harry’s distaste, he would find Louis with a blonde attached to him, giggling quietly and kissing his neck. Louis would have apologies written all over his eyes but Harry would merely look away and laugh louder, smile brighter without Louis by his side.

The game commenced. The teams jogged out onto the pitch and clapped hands, the footie captains shaking hands as tradition. Once the pledge of alliance was over, the boys ran out on the field and passed the ball back and forth. They exchanged claps on the backs when they were near and whisked away the ball with determination set in the furrow of their brows.

Harry felt himself alive with the spirit of the game. He clapped his hands and bellowed out cheers while Niall shouted encouragements of his own such as, “Kick him in the bloody shin, you cunt!” meanwhile Zayn sat back with unimpressed eyes, watching the spectacle unfold right in front of him. Harry was not even sure why he came to be honest. Probably to look devastatingly poetic, his narrowed eyes flitting across, something beautiful amongst a chaotic mess.

They were tied 4-4, the ball having repeatedly tossed back and forth unsuccessfully. Harry was on the edge of his seat, sitting on his hands as not to frantically gesticulate in the air. Even Niall had a calming stupor overwhelm him, too caught up in the game to scream Irish obscenities or boo or insult.

There was this moment in time, unsettled and frigid, where Harry saw it coming before anybody else. He saw the number four, red-haired and freckles dotting his face, lunge towards Louis who was in possession of the ball. Harry felt himself stand up, lurching, desperate, wanting to warn Louis about the oncoming freight train. But Zayn was suddenly there, standing up for the first time during the whole game and holding him back, a steely expression settled on his calm face.

“He’s gonna fucking hurt him!” Harry yelled, panicked and red flustered.

“There’s nothing you can do about it Harry,” Zayn warned.

And Harry watched pathetically as Louis ran across the field with steely determination, his legs quick, but not fast enough, as Freckles was hot on his heels. _Strike!_ Just like that, Louis stumbled to the floor, falling face first. Freckles jumped over his limp body and struck the ball, laughing maliciously behind his shoulder while Louis hugged his knee to his chest, grimacing in pain.

Something like anger and frustration licked at Harry’s bones, made his face flush, his fists clench. He watched helplessly as the coach called for a time-out. He, along with Louis’ teammates, ran towards Louis, crowding around him and helping him up on wobbly feet. Harry felt his chest constrict in pain as he watched Louis limp to the sidelines with his arms slung across his teammates’ shoulders, scrunching his face.

Harry so desperately wanted to kiss the hurt away. But how could he? When he was standing in the bleachers with a broken heart and being nothing but a mere spectator. He hated himself for it.

The people around them booed. Even Niall shot up and cupped his hands around his face, screaming, “Give the cunt a yellow card!” Faces painted in blues and yellows startled and then they too yelled, “Yellow card, yellow card, yellow card!” All the while Niall led the pack of screaming fans, shouting at the top of his voice, “Give the cunt a yellow card!”

A swell of pride swallowed Harry whole. He knew if it had been anybody else they would have muttered swears and left it at that, but because it was Louis, they were demanding for justice. Louis, the star player and footie captain, positively beamed and waved at the crowd of his fans, pressing the tips of his fingertips to his lips and waving his hand. Harry bit the inside of his lower lip, grinning proudly, his whole being aflame with pure joy.

The striped clothed referee flicked out a yellow card for Freckles, Freckles’ face falling as he wiped sweat off his brow. The arena erupted into cheer. Harry clapped, the cheers slowly dying down, and sat back down. Energy bloomed inside him, lighting his every crevice and fold. Louis waved at the fans one last time, a bag of ice spread of his swollen ankle. His teammate handed him a bottle of water and an encouraging pat on the back.

Louis’ fallen led the Regal Bumblebees to score a penalty goal, the fans erupting into claps, whoops of pleased laughter, and jolly cheer. ’My little hero,’ Harry thought to himself, fingertips pressed to his smiling lips.

Freckles scowled, a wet towel draped across his neck. He stomped off the field in a fury, his coach yelling at his retreating back afterwards. Louis looked out into the crowd of blended faces, eyes searching for a familiar face. Harry stared at him, unblinking, his breath stopped. Louis’ eyes settled on his, the skin beside his eyes crinkling in a smile. His face gleamed, blushed cheeks and sweat racing past his eyelids. He winked at him and pursued his lips, blowing Harry an invisible kiss. Harry grabbed the air and splayed his fingers over his heart. Louis nodded with his eyes closed, his face blissful and terrifyingly beautiful.

He kept his hand pressed to his beating chest while Louis turned around. He gazed at his kit clinging to his back. He felt so much fondness for him he thought he couldn’t contain the feeling anymore. The lingering touches, the bruised lips, the fathom words were all too much for him. He was following Louis blindly, his heart caught in his throat, and if he didn’t reveal any part of him soon he was going to fall—too soon, too deep, too late.

_Tonight. I’ll tell him tonight._

. . .

Once the game was finished, Harry made his way to the lockers. He had hugged Zayn and Niall goodbye, promises of hitting the bars and grabbing a pint somewhere in the near future. He shrugged past sweaty bodies and didn’t linger his gaze on half naked flushed bodies. He was too busy staring at the toned muscles on Louis’ back to notice.

As if Louis had some instinct whenever Harry was near, he turned around, smile in place. Harry eyed him up and down. His kit was wrapped around his arms, barely having time to take it off. His chest was slightly flushed and pink, sweat dripping in between his nipples. His nipples were a dark shade of pink. Harry reached out to him but paused, his arm hanging stupidly in the air.

“Hey,” he opted for instead, casually. “You okay?”

Even _he_ sounded extremely vulnerable and weak to his own ears, like a stepped on crushed puppy, though Louis was the one who quite literally got stepped on.

“I’m fine, really. Just a minor bruise. Happens all the time.”

It was then that Harry noticed the dark shades of purples and greens marring his skin. He got down on his knees and inspected the bruised skin, reaching out to brush his fingertips on his skin. Louis flinched his leg back, his eyes guarded. He motioned with his eyes around them frantically. Harry bit his lip and stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets. All he wanted to do was soothe and touch and heal.

“So you won then,” Harry murmured, bringing up their deal.

Louis pursued his lips. His eyes scrutinized in a hot gaze, leaving a trail of burning heat in its wake. Harry felt a flush spread from the tops of his shoulders to the toes on his feet. Louis nibbled on his lower lip. Harry wanted to pull it apart from his mouth and suck on it until it matched the pretty shades of midnight blue on his ankle.

“I did, yeah,” Louis mumbled, his clear blue eyes cutting through.

Harry could only watch him, dazed and willing to do whatever Louis asked. He would even lay him on a bed of pillows and fan him while feeding him grapes like they once did to royal kings. Every time he was around Louis it was like he was in an unbroken spell. Always gravitating towards him, always seeking his praise, always trying to please him.

“Later,” Harry reminded him, his eyebrow arched.

Louis nodded and turned around, shoving off his shorts. Harry looked away, the flush creeping up his neck and cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck and walked away, feeling Louis’ gaze burning on his lower back. Louis did confess he loved his pert arse after all. He shouldered past too much cologne and naked bodies, his mind a static television, anticipation thrumming in his veins in a steady flow.

Later, later, later.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry asks.

* * *

Late hours into the night, the locker room was empty save for harsh breaths and digging fingertips. Harry pushed Louis up against the wall of lockers, making sure his head didn’t slam into the wall. He very much valued Louis’ life, thank you very much.

Harry licked eagerly into his mouth, all signs of patience gone. He was pressing steadying hands to his waist, bucking up his hips against Louis’ smaller frame. Louis moaned into his mouth, so pliant and relaxed under Harry’s fingertips. He wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, his feet dangling in the air. Harry had forgotten how small he was since Louis made up for his short height by his loud personality and even louder mouth. He bit back a smirk at the realization. Louis stopped kissing him when he felt Harry’s smiling lips pressed on his own, bereft of kissing him.

“What’s so funny?” Louis breathed on his lips.

“Nothing.” Harry shrugged his shoulders. “You’re just so small.” He pinched the air beside him with two fingers.

“I’ll have you know,” Louis huffed out. “I’m 5’9.”

“Sure you are babe,” Harry commented, pecking his lips once. “And I have straight hair.”

Louis scrunched his nose at the endearment. He wasn’t keen on PDA, so Harry bit back his tongue in order not to gush out any more adorable nicknames. Louis placed his hands on his hips, searching in his jade green eyes. Harry wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He brightened up with an idea, snapping his fingers and pushing Louis down on the bench. Louis complied easily while Harry dug through the contents of his backpack. He produced a rope and a silk tie. He whipped them around in the air, Louis following his movements in a rapt gaze.

“What’s all this for then?” he asked, curiosity pinging his voice.

“To have fun, of course.” Harry settled on his haunches and placed his hands on Louis’ knees. “I want you to tie me up and blindfold me. The deal was a surprise.”

“Okay,” Louis said, unsure. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, of course he asked, because he was a sweetheart in bed and never wanted to intentionally hurt Harry, even though he sometimes asked for it harder, bridging towards pain.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time, Lou,” Harry admitted quietly.

He presented the aforementioned items in his open palms. Louis took them, eyeing them suspiciously. His eyes raced back and forth Harry’s face, gauging his expression, looking for any signs of discomfort. At seeing only hooded eyes and slicked lips, he shakily said, “Okay,” and slipped the tie through Harry’s loose curls.

Fingertips worked a knot at the back of his head, securing it tight. Harry licked his lips and presented his hands to Louis, his wrists pressed together at the base. He felt the rough glide of the rope as Louis knotted it firmly in and out of his wrists. Louis patted his hands when he deemed he was done.

“Now what?” Louis asked patiently.

“I want you to slap me,” Harry said.

“What?” Louis asked, shocked.

“I want you to slap me,” Harry repeated. “I want you to sit there and slap me until my cheeks are blotchy and red. I want you to slap me until I’m on the verge of crying. I want you to strike me until I’m begging for you to come inside my mouth. I—Louis, I know it’s weird. Believe me, I know. But I want this with you. I trust you. And I know that it might be too much and you can untie me if it is, but I trust you. I only show myself to you. Not anybody else. I get it if it’s too weird and I’m being weird and this whole thing is weird—“ Harry rushed out in one breath.

Louis interrupted him quickly, shushing him. “No, baby no.” Harry stopped babbling at the words. Because he was sure he didn’t hear right. Because he was sure Louis Tomlinson of all people didn’t call him baby of all nicknames. Louis went on without missing a beat. “No, Haz, it isn’t weird. I’m just…taken aback. I don’t want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you, love.”

There it was again. The nickname of endearment with a gentle tone. Harry curled in on himself. All anguish prickling at his skin rushed out of him and dissolved into thin air.

He mumbled, “Are you sure it’s not weird?” in a timid voice. To which Louis replied, “I’m sure. I just want you to be safe. Will you be safe? Do you trust me?” Harry nodded fervently. He leaned just a bit closer, knees bruising and scraping on the floor. “I do. I trust you with my whole life.”

“Okay,” Louis said, voice soft. “Okay,” he repeated, his voice gaining confidence.

He smoothed his palms over Harry’s cheeks, his touch gentle, palms barely sliding on his skin.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice shivering.

Harry nodded furiously again. Louis mumbled to himself again, pulling back his hand. Harry licked his lips in anticipation and waited. He felt the cool rush of wind before he felt Louis’ palm. _Slap!_ He struck him across his cheek, blood instantly rushing to his face. Harry let out a whimper, biting down on his lower lip harshly.

“Baby!” Louis cried out, cupping his cheeks. He flung the silk tie over his curls, looking frantically in his green eyes. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh my god, that sounded so loud!”

Harry looked up at him with flushed blotched cheeks, something like satisfaction dancing in the irises of his eyes.

"No, Lou. That was…great. Amazing even. I want you to do it again.”

Louis looked at him in initial shock, then horror. “You what? No, Haz, stop, this isn’t safe. I don’t want to hurt you again. Please.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m not hurting, Lou. I love the pain. Please, do it for me.”

Louis searched in his eyes for an answer. He thumbed under his eyes, a pale blue ocean staring into his soul.

“You want me to do it again?”

Harry nodded.

“Alright,” Louis said, pulling back his hands. He kissed him sweetly and folded the silk tie over his eyes again. “I won’t tell you when it’s coming, alright?”

Harry nodded again. Excitement rushed through his blood, filling his veins with nerves and thrill. Like a new high he never experienced before. He didn’t even feel it when Louis hit him again across the other cheek. Only a residue of lingering pain splashed across the side of his face. He had a high tolerance of pain after all.

Louis breathed in and out. “Okay?” he asked, his voice bordering on frantic.

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed. “We’ll have colors so you won’t freak out. Green is for good, yellow is for pause, red is for bad.”

Louis felt himself get braver. “Yeah,” he breathed, calming himself down. “Yeah, okay.”

Harry prepared himself for the next hit. The pain was a dull sensation, only serving to flush his cheeks red. He bit his lip and waited patiently like a good boy. Louis’ palm came in contact with his cheek. Harry's head whipped around from the impact behind it. White staticky noise filled inside his head, making everything feel dizzy. He registered Louis’ voice calling out his name in the distance.

His voice cleared the air. “Harry, Harry,” he repeated, his voice high pitched. “What color, baby, what color?” He patted his cheeks, his thumb smoothing over the burning skin.

Harry smiled, his cheeks coloring in a blush. “Green,” he said happily. He offered him a thumbs up for good measure.

Louis sighed in sweet relief. “One more time, okay?”

Harry pouted, his bottom lip jutting out. He whined low in his throat. “Three? Please Lou, please?”

“Okay,” Louis sighed. Harry heard the noise of two hands rubbing together. He gripped his thigh, readying himself. _Slap!_ He bent his head low. The flush crept down his neck, painting his chest in bright red fuchsia colors.

"Green,” he affirmed before Louis even asked him.

Louis hit him two more times. On the last one, Louis licked his palm and slapped him, his wet palm striking Harry’s skin. Harry gaped at the sensation. Whereas the other slaps were dull and dry, this one was wet and thrilling, causing vibrations of painful pleasure drip down his spine. He moaned audibly, arching his back and opening his mouth.

“All I see is green,” he said through a moan.

Louis’ sweet laugh rang in the air. He felt the press of Louis’ thumb drag across his spit slicked lip.

He whimpered, “Now Louis. I want your cock inside my mouth now.”

He heard something that sounded a lot like whine. Since his eyes were blindfolded, all his other senses were on maximum. He smelled Louis’ sharp sweat before he felt the press of his cock guide into his mouth. He opened wide and relaxed his jaw, Louis grunting out a moan and letting his thick cock press inside. He tightened his lips in a vice like grip around his girth, letting Louis take control for a little while.

Louis muttered obscenities while he guided his swelling cock inside and outside of his mouth. Spit and precome dribbled down his chin, but Harry didn’t particularly care, simply moaned louder around his cock and widened his jaw.

Louis pulled out his leaking cock and pressed it to his closed lips. Harry let him drag his wet head over his lips, spreading the come over his mouth. He made a sound in his throat and Louis pressed in deeper, just the tip of his cock entering. He sucked around the head and slurped noisily. He felt fingers card through his hair, disentangling his curls.

“Fuck,” Louis panted. “Your mouth is so hot and wet.”

Harry bobbed his head up and down, Louis’ sticky head slipping in and out of his mouth. His poor, neglected cock rested on his thigh, building up with come. He could probably come just by Louis touching him. His skin was burning up, his cheeks still red and flushed, beads of sweat pooling in his collarbones. He tightened his lips and suckled in, making these obscene wet noises.

Louis grunted and gripped a fistful of hair tighter. His cock wetly popped off. Harry licked his lips, mumbling, “Fuck my mouth,” in rapt breaths. Louis groaned again and guided his cock back inside. He pulled in a few times, feeling hot and swollen inside Harry’s mouth. He picked up the pace and worked a steady rhythm, not too slow, but not too fast, just to keep him on edge. Harry’s tongue swirled around his head, his tongue flicking out to dart at his salty slit.

Louis tightened his fist and properly started fucking inside his mouth. Harry relaxed his jaw and let Louis have his way with him. Louis fucked him good, the tip of his cock nudging his throat open. He pushed in deep and shoved his head down Harry’s throat. Harry gagged, his cock falling loosely off his mouth with a string of come and saliva connecting them.

“Bloody hell,” Louis rasped out, his voice deep drawn and rough. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”

He thumbed come off his lower lip and sucked his thumb into his mouth. He guided his cock back to Harry’s swollen lips and worked himself inside. Harry lathed his tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock. Louis stiffened and relaxed at the same time, his hips stuttering their rhythm. He gripped the base of his cock and pulled in and out, mesmerized by Harry’s lips wrapped so tightly around his length.

Harry sucked him off for a few more minutes. Slurping, obscenities, and the occasional _drip drip drip_ of come and saliva was heard in the otherwise quiet room. Louis cursed under his breath and watched as his cock disappeared inside his hot mouth, coming with a sheen of saliva coating his hardened length. Harry’s lips were glistening and wet, his chin dirty from a mixture of come and saliva.

“Lou,” Harry murmured around his cock, sending tiny vibrations up Louis’ body.

He shuddered, pressing his cock in deeper. Harry hummed again and swirled his tongue from base to tip. Without warning, he bopped his head and took him in deep until his nose was nudging his stomach. Louis’ stomach swooped in. He felt his oncoming orgasm build up inside, tendrils of heat licking at his spine. He muttered out a groan as Harry continued to deep throat him, his pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentrated determination. Louis smoothed the arches of his eyebrows. He moaned louder this time when Harry pulled all the way off, a cool rush of air hitting his hot skin, before taking him in further. He was absolutely certain his cock was nudging down his throat.

“Fill me up so good,” Harry said when his cock slipped out of his mouth. He tasted come off his lips, just a quick swipe of his tongue that made Louis see stars. “Taste so good, love.”

Harry’s mouth opened wider, taking more of his cock inside his wet, sucking mouth. He hummed around his length and sucked him a few times, his mouth bobbing rhythmically. Louis kept moaning these low, submissive sounds in his throat that would echo off the walls, resonate in Harry’s head. Harry’s mouth was impossibly hot and wet, the slickness making Louis’ cock slide in smoother.

Louis grinded his hips up with one hand tugging on Harry’s slightly sweaty curls. His face, so poised and perfect, was starting to flush despite the fresh blush on his cheeks. A thin sheen of sweat coated his face and dripped down his elegant neck. Louis thumbed his Adam’s Apple, Harry moaning softly in response.

Harry’s head started bobbing faster, his eyebrows scrunched in focused determination. His pink, swollen lips were so tight around his cock that it made it seem a slick, tight heat. Louis felt bursts of heat spreading from his lower belly and radiating all over his body.

Louis was stuck between fucking into his mouth and staring at his flushed faced, furrowed eyebrows and crimson lips. He was even beautiful with a cock inside his mouth, maybe even more so. Harry sucked him hard and fast, his curls bouncing lightly with every bob.

“Harry,” Louis moaned, shaking his head, biting the corner of his mouth.

Momentarily, he forgot he needed to breath. Harry’s mouth was a hot, persistent presence around his cock. Then Harry did something incredibly and Louis gasped a sharp breath in. His cock slipped out of his lips as Harry moved lower and sucked on his balls.

“Ah, fuck,” Louis sighed. He clenched his eyes shut, his grip tightening on Harry’s curls. “Those are sensitive.”

Harry hummed in response. His tongue darted out to lathe at his soft, sensitive skin, lapping up sweat. He kissed each ball in return and went back to swallow him whole, tongue darting out to lick over the salty skin.

Louis guided Harry’s rhythm faster by angling his hips better. Harry moaned hotly around his cock, taking him in impossibly deeper. Louis almost passed out when his cock delved down his throat. The added thickness made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

He felt pleasure overwhelm him and override all other senses, shooting hot white into Harry’s mouth. He stilled completely as he felt Harry’s lips tighten around him. Once he emptied himself, Harry pulled his mouth off, sucking his head with lazy pulls. He pulled all the way off and breathed harshly, puffs of air smoothing over Louis’ burning skin.

Louis shivered at the cold air hitting his wet cock. His body visibly relaxed as it fell into deep warmth. His stomach rose up and down slowly, tingling of pleasure spreading over his goosebumps prickled skin. Harry whined and pressed his face to his thighs, biting down on his soft skin.

Louis hissed quietly and guided Harry’s head away. He tucked his softening cock back into his shorts and thumbed over Harry’s come slicked lips. He grabbed Harry’s face in his hands and sucked a heavy kiss into his mouth. He didn’t care if he was tasting himself off Harry’s wet tongue. He relished in the soft, little moans emitting from Harry’s mouth.

He pulled the silk tie over Harry’s head. Harry blinked several times in the light, his eyes blearily blinking the darkness away. “That was incredible love,” Louis sighed, his voice quiet. He kissed Harry once more on the lips, thumb brushing under his eye.

“I like when you call me that.”

“Call you what?”

“Love. Baby. Names.”

“Oh.” Louis removed his hand, eyes blinking rapidly. He went back and smoothed his thumbs on his red dotted cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have called you that a long time ago.”

Harry shrugged. “Wanted you to call me that if you meant it.”

“I do, love.” Louis brushed their dry lips together. “I really do.”

Harry nuzzled his face into his palms. Louis’ eyes softened at that. He grabbed Harry’s wrists and started untying the rope from his hands. Angry, red marks roped around his skin. Harry knew they would last until tomorrow. Louis thumbed the marks quietly, wide-eyed and mouth falling open. Harry felt a sense of pride swell inside him.

“Wow,” Louis said, voice hushed.

He thumbed the skin over again, the red skin flushing into white with his pressing thumbs. “Let’s lay down,” Harry said. Louis nodded his agreement, his face only mildly confused. He eyed the dirty floor but laid with Harry side by side anyways.

“Hey,” Louis said, propping his head on his palm. His eyebrows furrowed cutely. “I didn’t get you off.”

“Oh." Harry’s face flushed impossibly more. Streaks of red painted his face. His cheeks felt hot all over. “Um. I kinda already did.”

Louis’ eyes traveled down his body. He discovered a wet patch of fabric in the middle of his trousers.

“You…” he trailed off, stunned. “You came untouched?”

“I guess I did,” Harry said quietly, a blush creeping down his neck.

Louis palmed his softened cock over the wet fabric. Harry hissed, curling his body away. Breaths of laughter spilled over his face. He grabbed Harry’s waist and tucked him closer, chest pressed to chest. He cupped his face and licked into his mouth, prying open his beestung lips with his slick tongue. Harry moaned softly, falling apart at the taste of Louis’ mouth.

Louis pulled away with a slick, wet sound, his lips red. “So,” Harry began, his voice timid. He was going to tell him. Right now. The mood was perfect, Louis was staring at him softly and quietly, and Harry was still riding the last waves of his orgasm. What could go wrong?

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Um.” Harry fidgeted with his hands. He glanced down at his thumbs fiddling with each other, then looked back up through rows of eyelashes. Louis looked calm and at peace. Out with it, then.

Harry mustered up a breath and rushed out the words, “I wanted to ask you what are we? I mean, really. ‘Cause I’m flying blind here Louis and I really want to know what you see me as. Do you see me as a regular hookup? A mate? A nobody? I have the right to know.”

Louis gaped at him. He closed his mouth and swallowed hard. “You do have the right to know,” he said quietly. “I guess, just a hookup?” Harry’s face fell. “But, you’re my mate too, you know?” Louis added quickly, his eyes the perfect resemblance of a deer caught in the headlights. “We’re friends who casually hook up.”

“So,” Harry said for him, his voice filled with disappointment. “Friends with benefits.”

“Exactly!” Louis exclaimed. He gained courage to fill in the gaps with his empty words. “I just wanna have fun. You understand that, right?”

Harry nodded slowly. He didn’t even have it in himself to say the words, “I do.” He felt pathetic at this point. Even the frantic butterflies in his stomach stopped fluttering and wilted. It was like he made everything seem bigger in his eyes. He romanticized things that shouldn’t, never have needed to be, romanticized. He felt like a little boy with a stupid crush on a beautiful boy out of his league. Harry never had a chance.

How could he be so young? So foolish?

Instead of snuggling to his chest like he always did after sex, Harry wordlessly started picking up the rope and silk tie and stuffing them into his backpack. He zipped it up, ignoring the worried glances Louis shot his way.

“Friends don’t cuddle. And friends don’t kiss me the way you do.”

Harry looked over his shoulder one last time, pathetic, pathetic, idiot, pathetic, and flung the door open. A burst of wind slapped his cheeks awake. Guilt swelled up inside his belly, threatening to spill out through the crevices of his broken heart. Harry swallowed the bile in his throat, pretending he didn’t hear Louis calling out his name in the dead of night.

Tears stung at the corner of his eyes but he looked up at the starless sky, rapidly blinking back the tears. He would not cry, not today. Especially not in front of Louis Tomlinson.

He didn’t, didn’t, _did not_ , look back. (He did.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's heart breaks and finds comfort in a new person.

* * *

As promised, the lads went to Good Goldfrey’s for celebrating their win.

Harry didn’t want to go, too hung up on Louis’ rejection, but he promised Zayn and Niall he would stop by for a drink or two. As soon as he stepped into the glitz and glamour of Goldfrey’s, his eyes settled on Louis and a boy. Not a girl giggling or feeling his arm, but a _boy_. A boy that, by the looks of it, was laughing at all of Louis’ jokes and stroking his cheek fondly. Louis just drank it all in, leaning forward and murmuring flirtations in the boys’ ear as Pretty Boy flushed bright pink. Harry was absolutely livid.

“Woah, hey there Curly what’s wrong?” Niall asked, pulling his arm back and peering into his eyes.

Harry flinched at the nickname. Specifically, because it was Louis’ nickname for him.

“Nothing,” Harry argued, eyes dancing over Niall’s bony shoulder to shoot daggers at Pretty Boy’s back.

Although Pretty Boy was oblivious to it, too caught up in Louis’ smile and Louis’ words and Louis in general. Harry looked back at Niall, concern washing over his features. He clenched his white shirt in a fist and pulled him towards the lit bar.

“C’mon, let’s get a fucking drink!”

Niall laughed loudly, plastering himself over the bar and waving at the bartender, ordering two shots of tequila.

“Thatta boy!”

He clapped Harry’s shoulder, _hard_ , and shoved the tequila into his hands. Harry grabbed the offered drink, liquid sloshing over his fingers, and tipped his head back.

The liquid burned down his throat but he asked for another and another and another until the world was swaying at his feet and he had to grip Niall’s shoulder for support. He only recalled Niall’s boisterous laughter ringing in his ears. Pretty soon he was sloshed, pigeon toed feet having a hard time walking, knees knocking in together.

When Zayn arrived in a whiff of expensive Usher cologne and smoke, Harry hugged him tightly and sloppily kissed him on the cheek. Zayn smudged spit off his blushed cheeks. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked, holding Harry up by the shoulders and looking over him to Niall. Before Niall could open his mouth to answer however, Harry made grabby hands at him, pinching his cheeks.

“Nothing’s wrong with me Zayn,” he slurred, shining lips painted a cherry red.

Zayn’s amused eyes darted across his face.

"Had too much to drink?” he questioned Niall.

Niall swallowed a mouthful of rum and coke like it was water, Harry’s eyebrows shooting up impressively.

“This one can’t hold his liquor,” Niall shouted over the noise of the bar.

Soon the club was filling up with sweaty bodies and raucous laughter, flushed bodies grinding against each other and barely legal teenagers.

“Zayn, don’t patronize me. I’m right here.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows, his lower lip jutted out in a child-like pout.

Zayn chuckled, low vibrations of air swimming in the air. “You’re still a little shit even when you’re inebriated, aren’t you?”

Harry flung his arms around his neck, pulling him in and mushing his lips to his neck. “Aw Zaynie, you love me!” Warm puffs of air smoothed over Harry’s face, spilling from Zayn’s smoldered lips. He pressed his lips to the crown of Harry’s head.

“Are you okay standing by yourself though?” Zayn asked, shadows of concern dancing on the tight line of his lips.

Harry took a tentative step forwards, almost falling flat to his face. Zayn rushed out and grabbed his arm, holding him upright. Harry pushed his hands away and tried walking away with a determined pout. He was stepping forwards awkwardly and painfully slow, but hey, he was walking.

“All good!” Harry shouted, a few steps away.

Zayn chuckled his amusement and flicked out his pack of Marlboros. Even though the prestigious club had rules against smoking inside (they had a pool room with lounge chairs for that) the bartender swiped his eyes over Zayn’s body and nodded his assent.

Harry scoffed to himself. Damn Zayn and his raven, slick hair and gorgeous, sharp features. His beauty made him get away with everything.

Harry bumped into sweaty dancing bodies, watching the flicker of light from Zayn’s cigarette dance on his perfectly poised lips. He pushed his way through sharp elbows and bobbing heads. He was shouldering his way to the loos, cupping himself, when he felt a warm hand palm against his arse.

“Oops,” Harry laughed, turning around to find the culprit.

His eyes landed on a pair of blue eyes attached to a pretty body. But it wasn’t Louis. He had a lip ring (fuck, even Harry had to admit that was hot) and black, ruffled hair. His tan body was littered in tattoos, scribbles here and there marring his skin.

“Hey,” Blue Eyes greeted, a smirk curling his lips. “The name’s Beau.”

Harry slowly looked him up and down. He was proper fit, yeah, somebody he would have no problem taking home if he wasn’t pathetically in love with a certain other somebody. Or infatuated with more like because fuck, love was a big word for him to handle.

“Hey Beau,” Harry greeted back, his own lips matching his smile. “I’m Harry Styles.”

Beau’s sharp blue eyes traced the curves of his body, looking at him hungrily and greedily. Harry felt a feeling stir inside his lower belly but he couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad feeling. Beau drank him in, licking his lips in an attempt to look seductive.

“So Harry,” he purred, tracing a fingertip down the length of his arm. Harry shivered to the lingering chill seeping in his bones but Beau’s eyes mistook it for something else because his eyes darkened at the gesture. “Fancy going dancing?”

There was something in his voice Harry couldn’t quite pinpoint, a certain edge to it, but he pushed all guilty thoughts of Louis Tomlinson to the far back corner of his mind and instead said smoothly, “Sure thing, Beau.”

Beau’s sharp teeth snagged on his lower lip. He grabbed Harry’s waist and spun him around, pressing his back flush to his chest. Harry sucked in a gasp. He let Beau set the rhythm to their connected bodies.

The song changed to an upbeat song, laser lights washing over blissful faces. Beau pressed him tighter to his sticky chest and gyrated his hips against Harry’s bum. Harry felt hot and cold all over, but entirely wrong for all other reasons. Those hands weren’t Louis’, those hips weren’t Louis’, those wet lips pressing to the nape of his neck weren’t Louis’. But he let him dig his fingertips into his hipbones that much harder, guiding him for the remainder of the song.

It was a few minutes of Beau breathing hotly against his neck, panting like a fucking dog, that he grew tired of it. But as he went to push his dirty hands off, he felt somebody staring at him. Thinking it was Zayn or Niall keeping an eye out for him from creepy strangers, he tilted his head to the left, only to catch sight of none other than Louis Tomlinson. Louis, who was busy burning a searing hole to where Beau’s lips attached to his neck with narrowed eyes, was busy ignoring Pretty Boy’s failed attempts at grabbing his attention. Because Louis was too preoccupied scrutinizing his gaze to Beau that he didn’t even feel Pretty Boy’s presence.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. So he pushed his arse back farther into Beau’s stuttering hips, causing Beau’s mouth to fall open and grunt out a moan. At seeing the spectacle, Louis’ eyes narrowed further more.

Harry’s face flamed. He bit on his lower lip and reached over to grab Beau’s hair in a fistful. Beau complied easily and licked a fat broad stripe up Harry’s neck to the shell of his ear. He could feel Louis’ burning stare spreading low vibrations of pleased relief all throughout his hot body. Because while he let himself enjoy a warm body press up behind him, he noticed how Louis’ eyes darkened in a twisted way. Because he _affected_ Louis somehow, no matter that Louis rejected him moments before. He felt proud of himself at seeing Louis’ face morph into distress, then anger, clenching his fists at his side and looking furious.

After seeing Louis was no longer paying attention to him, Pretty Boy fell at his side, leaving him in search for hotter, more interested men. Louis didn’t seem to mind, lost in staring at how Beau arched his hips and dug his middle to Harry’s arse. Harry felt a new sort of thrill in Louis watching him even though he hadn’t noticed Harry noticed. He felt like he was putting on a show for him, so he dropped his hands to the floor and wickedly bent his back, slowly rising up. He ignored Beau’s breathy moans and trembling legs.

Harry stared at Louis through hooded eyes. It was then when time infinitesimally slowed and stretched. Three amazing things happened. First, Louis looked up and realized Harry was staring back at him the whole time. Second, he shook his head and harshly pushed away people, walking towards Harry and Beau. Third, Harry panicked and pushed Beau off, heading to the bar.

Even though he couldn’t _hear_ Louis’ footsteps it was almost as if he could _feel_ him. He felt the warmth of his body approach him, just falling a few steps behind. Harry slid into the stool and ordered a vodka tonic while he waited for Louis’ immediate presence. He looked to the right, his back facing Louis while he heard the squeak of the stool as a person slid beside him. He didn’t have to turn to see who it was. He already knew.

They were quiet for some time, neither of them speaking. Harry didn’t know if seconds, minutes, or even days passed by, all he knew was that he was feeling more anguish by the second they didn’t talk. Finally, Louis broke first.

“Who was that pretty boy attached to your back?” he asked.

He probably meant for his voice to come off as casual and indifferent, but it only served to make him sound bothered, _affected_.

Harry sniffed, refusing to look at Louis until he apologized for breaking his heart. Louis didn’t know that he broke his heart but, still. He deserved an apology in the shape of Louis’ mouth.

“I could say the same thing to you,” he shot back.

“I didn’t even know his name.”

“His name was Beau. Didn’t catch his last name.”

Louis fell silent, which wasn’t quite the answer Harry was looking for. He wasn’t sure what he was searching for in his words, just simply knew his heart ached. All he needed was Louis to apologize so he could forgive and forget and move past the broken splinters of his heart. Then he could heal and marry somebody who wouldn’t hurt him, who wouldn’t leave him for a pretty face for a quick fuck to forget. He was almost sure those were Louis’ intentions tonight.

“Oh,” Louis finally said, so quietly, pinged with sadness.

Harry swallowed past the knot starting to form in his throat. He wanted to spin around and gather Louis in his arms, kiss his temple and reveal he only wanted him, that no other nameless boy could fill the empty hole in his heart. But he had pride and so he stayed put, instead crossing his arms and huffing out an impatient breath.

“I saw you when you first came in, you know. Kept my eyes on you the whole time. Made sure you wouldn’t catch somebody and leave with them tonight.”

Harry felt sick. Because Louis was watching him the whole time? He saw as Harry openly checked out Beau and proceeded to close his eyes and relish in the feel of his body pressed to his back? He clutched his stomach, all of a sudden feeling nauseous. The bartender placed a vodka tonic in front of him. Harry grabbed the condensing glass with both trembling hands. Louis barreled on.

“I don’t know what you want from me Harry. Quite honestly, I thought things were great between us. I guess I was wrong. I was too caught up in trying to please you in physical ways that I didn’t bother to check how you felt emotionally. And I—I don’t know how to tell you but I can’t give you what you’re searching for. Whatever it is,” Louis paused, the words hanging in the air. Harry looked down and bit on his lip, waiting, confused, hurt. Louis sucked in a breath and continued. “I’m not a settling down type of guy. I break everything I touch, Harry. And you’re too beautiful for me to touch. ‘Cause then I might break you and I can’t promise you I’m gonna be there to pick up the broken pieces.”

Harry swallowed again. He mustered up the strength to turn around and face Louis. Slowly, he shifted until he was face to face with him. He was shock with his beauty all over again. Up close, Louis was smaller and more beautiful, even with flaws and all that. He was dressed down in a black tank top, the words Skate Tough scribbled messily in white bold letters. His fringe was brushed to the side, curling down his right eye. His eyes were shaded a cobalt blue color. The crinkles beside his eyes were nothing but smooth skin. Louis looked best when he was smiling. It was like the sun was out indoors.

“You weren’t wrong,” Harry finally said, breaking the silence between them. “Things _were_ great between us.”

Louis lifted up his head to look at him. He looked so tired, so worn out. Harry wanted to tuck him into bed in a swaddle of fluffy blankets and sing him lullabies until he fell asleep and kiss all his worries away. He wanted so much, _too much_ , when it came to Louis. Louis rested his warm palm over Harry’s. Harry didn’t move it away, simply leaned in closer to the touch.

“Can’t we move all past this and go back to the way we were? To being friends when we were happy?”

At his quiet words, Harry removed his hand, sobering up. Louis looked stung, hurt, betrayed. Harry didn’t know which was worse. He tipped his head back and swallowed down the vodka tonic in a few mouthfuls. He wiped his slick mouth with the back of his hand. He placed the empty glass on the bar, slipping a few notes and a tip underneath it. He stood up and shook out his hair. He looked at Louis intently, memorizing every line and curve so it was embedded into his brain. He didn’t know when he was going to see this boy again.

“No, we can’t. Because I don’t want to be your friend anymore, Louis. Not when I want so much more.”

Louis’ mouth opened. Harry tore his gaze away from the sad downwards tilt of his mouth and walked away for the second time that night. This time it hurt, because they talked it out and Louis was still not giving him what he wanted. He was probably a selfish, greedy bastard for wanting more, but he couldn’t neglect his feelings in order to make Louis happy. His happiness was just as important too. It killed him to walk away from Louis, but he still had to do it nonetheless.

The last thing he heard was Louis calling out his name. Again.

Harry blinked back the tears as he approached Zayn and Niall lounging by the bar. Niall’s arm was wrapped around a pretty girl with silver hair. Even Harry had to admit she looked good in the trend. He approached them slowly, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Zayn was leaning over the bar and talking animatedly to the bartender who was wiping a beer glass clean with a wet rag, looking equally invested in the conversation with shining eyes. He didn’t seem to mind or notice Zayn’s lit cigarette burning the expensive, mahogany bar since he was too busy staring into Zayn’s hazel eyes intently.

“Hey,” Harry greeted, sliding his back next to the pretty girl.

“Hey Curly!” Niall shouted, his words slurred and intoxicated, sporting flushed cheeks and red rimmed eyes. He was so, so drunk. Apparently, Irish leprechaun here couldn’t hold his liquor either.

“Hey Niall,” Harry replied, amusement coloring his voice. “Who’s your friend here?”

“Ah fuck, where are my manners?” Nice, Niall, nice. But the pretty girl didn’t seem to care, just snuggled in closer to Niall’s warmth. “This here is Jade Thirwall. She’s a first year uni student at Manchester.”

“Hello,” she greeted, her voice thick with a South Shields accent.

“Hello,” Harry replied easily. He shook her dainty hand before crossing his hands behind his back. “Do you happen to be from South Shields by any chance?”

“I do. I grew up there,” she said pleased, holding a manicured hand to her chest.

“Harry’s here an expertise at accents. Aren’t you Haz?”

“Well,” Harry said, a blush blooming over his cheeks. “Meh. Sorta, if you will.”

“Don’t be modest pal.”

Niall punched him in the shoulder, Harry staggering backwards with his strength. Not to mention he was still drunk and sort of out of balance when inebriated. Niall held the power of Zeus when he was drunk it seemed.

Harry rubbed his shoulder while Jade giggled into Niall’s shoulder, sparkling eyes looking up at him. She seemed completely enamored with everything he did, even laughing out loudly when he burped out a sentence. Which to Harry it was gross, but to Jade it was completely hilarious. He immediately liked her. She looked like a good fit to Niall.

“Where you’ve been to anyways, mate? Been looking for you all night. Wanted to show you that Jade can do a sweet impression of Gordon Ramsay! It’s absolutely brilliant.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. He shouted aloud, “I fancy Louis, I told him, and he rejected me. What’s new?” over the loud chaos of the club.

A cross look overtook Niall’s face before it dissolved into jolly indifferent cheer. It wouldn’t be Niall Horan if he wasn’t smiling.

“Louis Tomlinson can be a dick sometimes. Don’t stress over him, mate. It will all come together in the end.”

And that, that was the closest thing to sympathy coming from Niall, so Harry drank in his words and nodded. Instead of replying to his comment or making a snarky remark, he crossed his arms and stared at Jade, his face smug.

“Well have at it. Do your best impression.”

Jade mustered up a breath and with her best Gordon Ramsay accent, yelled, “Now fuck off you fat useless sack of fucking yankee doodle dandy shite. Fuck off, will ya?” She breathed out and smiled. Harry stared at her unblinking, his jaw falling open. “It’s his greatest ever insults,” she said in her normal sweet voice.

Even Zayn and Liam stopped talking, Liam’s wet rag falling to the floor. Zayn pursued his lips and whipped his head back, staring at Liam’s arse as he bent over to pick up the rag. Jade reached over and closed Harry’s jaw with her pointer finger.

“Fucking brill!” Niall shouted, squeezing her closer and looking at her with what could only be pure adoration.

Yet Harry couldn’t believe it. Jade was perfect for Niall. Niall had found his soulmate. Harry embraced Niall in a one arm hug, Niall falling into his chest.

“She’s perfect for you,” he whispered in his ear.

He pulled back, Niall’s shining eyes looking over him. He looked down at Jade, his lips curling up in a soft smile.

“I know,” he quietly breathed.

Harry felt happiness for his friend. Along with that he felt a prickle of jealousy because he had something, a feeling, that Harry has been chasing for since he realized what the word soulmate meant. Louis was his soulmate, he was sure of that, but maybe he wasn’t Louis’. And he needed to move on from that painful fact.

“Are we ready to go lads?” Harry asked, his voice pinged with pent up frustration.

Quite honestly he was growing tired of the pinging lights, the sweaty bodies, the never ending waterfall of drinks. He wanted to curl up in bed and forget tonight ever happened. Maybe even cuddle with a warm body to help him fall asleep.

“Sure,” Niall said, pulling his arm off Jade and guiding her to the exit with a hand on her lower back.

“Ready mate?” Harry approached Zayn, all too knowing Zayn hadn’t heard him before.

Zayn looked at him startled, then looked back at Liam’s smiling face, pouring over him. Harry watched him with knowing eyes. “Yeah, sure, lemme just,” Zayn trailed off, bereft of words. It was the first time Harry saw that he was rendered speechless. Usually Zayn was filled with poetic, deep words, filling in the empty silence with quotations of Oscar Wilde and John Keats.

Harry nodded, digging his fingertips into Zayn’s waist and pressing his lips to his ear. “Just get his number already, will you? I’ll be waiting in the car.”

And if he got any indication that the bartender was interested in Zayn, he got his confirmation clear as day when his eyes narrowed and his full lips pouted. Harry patted his arse and moved away before the bartender could break a glass and cut him open.

He stumbled into the uber as he waited for Zayn to come inside. He was mushed up against Niall’s sticky, pale arm, ignoring the sucking sounds he and Jade made. He was about to gag when Zayn climbed inside, an ecstatic broad smile looming his features. It was the biggest he's ever seen him smile.

“I got Liam’s number!”

“Who?” Niall asked, Jade’s hand having mysteriously disappeared under his unbuttoned shirt.

“The bartender you idiot. Now, chauffeur sir, to cease upon the midnight with no pain, while thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad in such an ecstasy! Lead us into the wake of night!” he yelled, his voice filled with energy and electric enthusiasm. He wrapped an arm around Harry’s neck and ruffled his hair. “Thanks Haz.”

The uber driver raised an eyebrow at them. Harry rolled his eyes. “He means home. Here, I’ll give you the address.”

He voiced aloud the address to his house while Jade and Niall sucked face and Zayn was already thumbing a text to Liam. Harry was squished in between Niall and Zayn but he didn’t particularly seem to care when he was surrounded by the people he loved. It was just missing a certain person.

When they arrived at Harry’s home, he paid off the uber driver and stumbled across the lawn, swaying slightly on his feet. Zayn carried him upright while Niall and Jade ran ahead of the sprinklers. Droplets of water caught in his shirt and skin, soaking visibly through. He shuddered at the chill as Zayn helped him inside.

Niall and Jade took the guest bedroom for tonight (God knows what they were doing) while Zayn chose to crash in Harry’s bed. They could have all easily gone home but Harry wanted them with him for a little while longer, just because he was already missing the warmth of a body. Besides, Harry found out Zayn was a good cuddler after attending a few of Louis' games with Zayn pressed to his side.

Zayn was drifting off into a slumber when quiet knocks ratted on his door. “Come in,” Harry said, his voice raspy from tonight’s events. The door creaked open to reveal a Jade Thirwall dressed in overflowing sleeping clothes. She looked soft and tiny as she tiptoed inside, scooting a chair closer beside Harry’s side of the bed.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Harry repeated.

“I heard about your deal with Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry stiffened. Jade reached out and brushed a hand over his arm. “I come from a place of past heartbreak. If you don’t mind, of course.”

Harry shook his head. Jade continued.

“I had a boyfriend of three years. His name was Teddy. He was magnificent. He made me a beautiful dinner on top of our roof overlooking the city and proposed. And I rejected him," Jade breathed out, struggling to find the right words. Harry’s eyes widened. “I guess I wasn’t ready. I made myself believe that I just wanted to have fun, even though someday in the long path I wanted to get married and have beautiful babies. But I couldn’t go through with it. We broke up shortly after that because he wanted kids and I didn’t at the moment. Months after, I was left missing him, almost desperately so. I left him countless voicemails and wrote him letters but he never responded. Then one day I bumped into him at our café and we sat down for a chat. He told me he was done with me. So he ended up rejecting me when I wanted him back.”

Harry stared quietly at her. Jade squeezed her hand on his arm. She smiled sadly, the lines around her mouth pronounced. She blew a hot breath out of her chapsticked lips.

“See, I didn’t know what I had until I lost it. And then afterwards I was completely devastated. Now, I don’t know much about this Louis but I know that he doesn’t know what he wants just like me back then. He might be ignoring his feelings, I don’t know, but I know he’s hurting right now as much as you are.” At that, Harry breathed out his protests but Jade stopped him, pressing her long finger to his mouth. Harry quieted while Jade dropped her finger. “Shh. What I’m trying to get at is that you need to give it time. Days, weeks, maybe even months. Hopefully not years. You need to give him space in order to sort himself out and figure out what he wants. ‘Cause Harry you’re a catch and if Louis can’t see that then I’m sorry to say but he’s an idiot.”

Harry exhaled a quiet laugh. Jade smiled softly at him and cupped his face in her hands, squishing his cheeks together.

“You. Deserve. Happiness.”

Harry swallowed again for what felt like the fifth time that night. Jade kissed him on the forehead and stood up. She walked back towards the door and lingered by the doorframe, her hand pressed to the wooden door. “Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry said, a shy smile working over his face.

“Okay. Good night Harry.”

“Good night Jade.”

With that, Jade nicked the door shut behind her. Harry breathed out a sigh, sinking into the mattress. He slapped the lights shut and rolled around in bed, facing Zayn. He watched as his chest rose up and down with each slow breath. He shifted until he laid on his back, palms resting on his chest, looking up at the glowing stars plastered to his ceiling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone plugged in to charge. He wanted to lunge towards it and call or text Louis. But he knew he couldn’t. Because Jade told him to give him time and he definitely could do that.

He only hoped so.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis talk some more.

* * *

Harry woke up to a message from Niall.

It simply read **Movie night at my dad’s, bring beer** with a lot of beer Emoji’s and exclamation points punctuated at the end. Harry groaned and rolled around in bed, ready to cuddle up to Zayn’s nicotine tinged warmth. Except all he felt was a cold, empty bed. Huh.

He sat up in bed and noticed there was a folded note resting on the pillowcase. He grabbed it, his name written on the front in a drawl. He opened it and read **Thanks for the bed last night. See you soon.** Harry didn’t take Zayn as the type to leave notes after sleeping with somebody but to each their own he guessed.

He tasted a tangy breath on his tongue. “Fucking nasty,” he murmured, pulling the duvet away from his sticky with sweat body. He padded into the shower and turned the creaky knob, a rush of water overflowing his hot body. He let the cool rush of water glide down his smooth skin and pool at his feet.

He squirted body conditioner and rubbed under his arms, swiping over his groin. Water pitter pattered on his skin, raining down the curves of his body. He grabbed the shampoo and conditioner and squirted a good sized dollop in his palm, lathing it over his hair. He scratched the base of his scalp and dunked his head underwater. He scrubbed his hands over his face and gasped in air. He closed the tap and climbed out, wiping his hand on the steamed mirror.

He didn’t get enough sleep last night. He tossed and turned all night, eventually dozing off into sleep at wee hours of the morning. The after effects were merciless. His bones felt tired and heavy with lingering sleep, his skin was paler than usual and he had dark purple under eye bags. Lovely.

He pulled on fresh clothes—a warm lilac jumper and light wash jeans, paired with his old white converse. He grabbed his backpack and with one last look at himself in the mirror, ruffled his hair and pushed a headscarf through his tangled curls. He walked over to the guest bedroom and knocked quietly. At no answer, he pushed the door ajar and realized the room was empty. The bed was made and even the pillows were fluffed up. Hm. Harry was certain it wasn’t Niall’s doing, probably Jade’s. He appreciated the effort. He trotted down the stairs swiftly, the smell of burnt eggs and toast wafting in the air.

“Hey mum,” he greeted in a soft rasp.

“Morning sweetums. Did you sleep well last night?”

She stirred eggs in a pan, scrambling yolks and whites together. Harry snatched a warm biscuit and spread butter over the top.

“Mmm, not really,” he replied.

“Hmm,” she hummed. She placed a glass of cold orange juice in front of him. “Maybe tonight take some Advil before you go to bed. Have a seat, breakfast’s almost ready.”

Harry gulped down the orange juice in a few mouthfuls. The cold juice slid down his throat.

“No thanks mum, besides, I don’t think I can muster burnt eggs.”

As if on cue, the smoke detector went off, blaring noisily around the house. Anne’s eyes narrowed, her green eyes scintillating against the bright light.

Harry sucked melting butter off his thumb. “Hey mum,” he started, his voice pinged with nervousness. “Is it okay if I snag a few beers and go to Niall’s for the afternoon?”

Anne turned around to look at him, her hand poised on her hip. “Now? It’s too early for drinking Harry.”

Harry shrugged, his lip pouting whenever he needed to convince his mum with puppy eyes. As suspected, she gave in.

“Alright sweetie, but text me if you’re going to stay over. And thank you for telling me the truth.”

She cupped his cheeks and planted a kiss on his forehead. Harry smiled with his cheeks squished.

“Thanks mum,” he murmured.

She released him and petted him on the head. “Oh! Before I forget. I made these chocolate chip cookies for Niall for being such a lovely guest last night. He cleaned up everything.”

Harry’s eyebrows twitched together. She opened the oven and propped on a mitten, the rush of hot air flushing his cheeks. She placed the cooling cookies in a plastic container and handed them over.

“Oh, mum that wasn’t Niall. That was…” Harry trailed off.

Anne would never approve if she discovered Niall slept with a girl in their guest bedroom last night. Not to mention Harry wasn’t exactly sure what they _did_ last night. If he as so mentioned it, she would be scrubbing the bedsheets with bleach.

“Never mind. It _was_ Niall. Alright, bye!”

He grabbed a six pack of beers and stuffed them into his backpack along with the container of cookies.

“Bye honey.” Anne waved him off, a smile in place. “Be careful!”

Harry threw open the door, the door flinging backwards to shut. “I will!” he shouted, grabbing his red bicycle and throwing his leg over the seat. His family was well off, the only way they were rich was with love. Hence, why he had to ride his bicycle to school every day, even when it was the winter months or pelting rain.

Once he arrived at Niall’s dad’s house (their parents were divorced, making Niall’s dad shower him with expensive gifts to win back his love, Niall didn’t seem to mind and only encouraged the flow of gifts and checks) he climbed off his bicycle with the wheels still rolling. The bicycle hit the garage door and skidded to a halt. It was already old and scratched anyways, the red paint peeling off in chipped bits and pieces.

Harry knocked on the front door. He waited patiently while Niall’s dad’s new younger wife opened the door. She pushed open the door, revealing herself in a ripped baby pink blouse and long retro skirt. She revealed her plastic chest (thanks to Niall’s dad’s money) with her nipples poking through. Her blonde hair was swept up in a messy bun, her matte red lipsticked lips smiling.

“Harry!” she greeted, faux cheerfully, her voice pitched in fake sweetness.

(Lisa didn’t approve of Harry’s gay lifestyle. Maura, Niall’s mum, hated her. Harry felt the same.)

“Lisa,” he greeted, just as sweetly fake.

She kissed both of her cheeks, smearing red lipstick on his face. "Come in, come in! Make yourself at home. The boys are inside the garage waiting for you.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. He shouldered past her and toed off his dirty converse. Lisa eyed them distastefully.

“Oh I will,” Harry answered.

Lisa’s eyes narrowed.

He climbed the steps down to Niall’s garage. He rubbed his cheeks with his sleeve, painting the lilac color a faint red. Even though Niall was rich and could possibly built in a fancy game room at his request, he preferred the cozy, warmly lit garage instead. Regardless, he ordered a pool table set in the room along with a built in bar, an original Pac-Man arcade game and a fouse table. Not to mention the large plasma screen built in the expanse of the wall, bean bag chairs placed in front of it. Niall had quite the set up.

Harry pulled the sweating beers out of his backpack. “I bring forth beers!” he shouted enthusiastically.

“Weyhey!” Niall cheered, joy lighting up his face. He grabbed a beer and clapped his hand. “Glad you could make it mate!”

“Of course,” Harry said, eyes twinkling.

He passed around the beers to the guys, even to Jade who was having a quiet chat with Liam, probably getting to know one another better. His eyes strayed from them to Louis. He didn’t know he was going to be here. He was planning on avoiding him until Louis figured out what he wanted.

Harry passed him a beer, their fingers brushing for a fraction of a second. Even that infinitesimal touch sent tremors up his spine. Louis nodded his head at him in lieu of greeting, Harry doing the same. He grabbed the collar of Niall’s shoulder and pulled him to the bar, away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“Hey,” he hissed, his voice low. “Care to mention that he was going to be here?”

Niall’s eyes scrutinized in a confused gaze. He looked over his shoulder to peer at his friends, then went back and stared at him confusedly.

“Who?” he asked, dumbstruck.

“Oh for god sake’s Niall! Louis! Who else?”

An overwhelming understanding struck him. “Oh,” he breathed.

He tugged Harry closer and whispered in his ear, looking at Louis intently. Not. Obvious. At. All.

"Harry, watch out mate, Louis’ here.”

Harry pulled his arm away harshly. “Too fucking late.”

He held his head up high and went back to find a spot around the circle they formed. And of fucking course, the only spot available was right next to Louis. Fantastic. God was laughing at Harry’s face and he was enjoying every minute of it.

Harry sat down tentatively next to Louis, angling his body away from him. Louis didn’t even glance his way or lean closer, which fine, if Louis wanted to play that game, Harry could play it better. His friends around them chatted amicably and shared laughs back and forth, leaving him out of the loop. He went to talk to Zayn but he was too busy staring dopily at Liam’s kind eyes. Great.

He leaned back in the plush chair. He noticed Louis wasn’t talking to anybody either. He was looking down at his fingernails and inspecting them. Harry scratched his throat and cleared his voice, leaning in closer just a tad bit. Only for talking purposes, of course. It wasn’t like he was seeking out for Louis’ warmth, of course not, because that would be ridiculous.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

Louis looked at him in surprise. A small smile tugged on the corners of his lips but he kept it at bay. Harry’s neutral face stared back at him. Louis intertwined his fingers together and cocked his head.

“Hey,” he said back, just as quietly.

Fuck, okay. They were doing this.

“How you’ve been?”

And okay, that wasn’t what Harry intended to come out of his mouth. Pathetic, imbecile, idiot, wanker. He scolded himself in his head while Louis smiled bigger, letting the smile crinkle his eyes in that way Harry admired. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Harry’s heart strings tugged at that.

“I’ve been okay. You?”

“Good, good. What’d you do last night?”

Louis shrugged casually. “You know, Goldfrey’s. Pretty much went home after that and hugged myself to sleep.”

Harry should feel relief flooding his veins at the fact that Louis slept alone, that he didn’t bring a pretty face home and fucked them into oblivion, but all he felt was sadness. Because Louis, tiny Louis, slept alone with nobody to cuddle up to. He even wished he took a stranger home so he would never have to experience to feel what it was like to sleep alone, _be alone_.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry said, honestly. “I, on the other hand, slept with Zayn.”

And fuck, shit, Christ, he didn’t mean to reveal that bit of information, did he?

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say, because Louis’ face fell instantly. He gathered himself and pulled on a fake smile, all wrong, and pursued his lips. He glanced at Zayn, not realizing he was too busy staring at Liam with endearment. He blew hot air out of his lips and nodded.

“He’s a proper lad, innit? Makes sense that you slept with him. I could see that.”

Harry’s face flushed bright red. He hurried to rush out the words, “Oh God, no not like that, never like that. I just meant we cuddled last night. He slept over.” But the clarification made Louis’ eyes narrow, biting on his lower lip.

“Oh,” he breathed out harshly.

He stared at Zayn with the heat of ten thousand suns, eyes aflame with anger.

Or was it jealousy? Was Louis Tomlinson actually jealous Harry cuddled with Zayn? But he didn’t like him like that, did he? He specifically told him he wasn’t into romances. So why would he be jealous of all emotions?

Louis scratched the dip in his throat. Harry smiled quietly at him. He gauged his reaction that would tell otherwise. His eyes traced his profile, the light catching his eyelashes and painting them sunshine yellow. Louis looked beautiful in all angles. But Harry was mesmerized as Louis stared straight ahead. Quiet save for his crazy beating heart. He wanted to reach out and stroke his sharp cheekbone or run his finger along the length of his jaw. He wanted to press his thumbs on the sensitive skin under his blue eyes, kiss him sweetly, press his lips to the warmth of his neck. But he didn’t have the privilege to do that anymore.

And maybe Harry was being foolish because he wanted to turn back time and wish he never revealed his true feelings to Louis. Because maybe they would be holding each other and Harry could wrap his hand around his length, warm and smooth, and suck his lips around his perfect head. Maybe Louis would look at him softly, tenderly, with so much warmth and adoration Harry felt lovesick with it. Maybe he would be able to touch him then, instead of having to endure the awkward silence between. Maybe then he would have stayed behind, his heart shattered and weakly beating, while he had to resist the urge to reach out and just touch, taste, feel.

His heart was thrumming rapidly in his chest. His hands were clammy from sweat. He was leaning so far in that their knees touched, his bum perched on the edge of the beanbag chair. Louis looked at him then and Harry stopped breathing. He really was beautiful, wasn’t he?

“Harry,” Louis said. Just him saying his name caused Harry to blank out for a moment. “We’re…We’re all right aren’t we?”

Harry pressed his lips in a thin line. He scratched the bridge of his nose.

He said, “Of course we are,” in a hesitant tone.

Louis seemed to catch on his tone, of course he did, but he leaned in all the same and grazed Harry’s arm soothingly. The touch sent spirals of heat crawling up his body. His eyes drifted around themselves before they landed back on Harry’s face.

“I just want you to be happy,” he said, the last word said brokenly.

And that, that just hurt Harry. It hurt him in a painful, twisted way, his whole being licked with fire and guilt. Because after everything, Louis was still looking out for him. Ever since that night at the club, Louis’ eyes were always searching for him, always trying to protect him. Even after he confessed to cuddling with Zayn, Louis was _still_ by his side, supportive as ever.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice hoarse. “I want you to be happy too. Even if it’s not with me.”

“Harry,” Louis whined, shaking his head desperately. He grabbed both of Harry’s shaking hands and tucked them in between his, his warmth spreading everywhere. “ _You_. You make me…”

Before he could finish his sentence however, Jade was pulling Harry’s arm away, Louis’ hands falling from his wrists. He let Jade tug him away, far away, watching Louis’ sad eyes until he turned around. It hurt too much. He bit on his lower lip hard and finally came to a halt, facing Jade’s light honey eyes.

“What are you doing?” she harshly whispered.

“What?” Harry asked innocently. “Nothing.”

“I thought we talked about this Harry,” she said sadly, maybe with pity. Harry didn’t want her pity. “I thought you were going to give him space to sort his shit out.”

Her eyes filled with sorrow meant to console Harry but it only served to anger him. He crossed his arms and chewed inside his lower lip. He didn’t mean to be cross with Jade, really he didn’t, she was cute and chipper and a perfect match for his best mate Niall. But she had no right to come in between Harry’s and Louis’ relationship, or _whatever_ they were, and meddle. Harry didn’t remember asking for her ‘words of wisdom.’

“Jade, no offense, but you have no right meddling with us.”

Jade’s eyes wilted like dead flower petals. She gripped Harry’s arm.

“Harry,” she said softly. “I only wanted to help.”

“Well I didn’t ask for it, okay? So why don’t you just leave me alone?” he said, his voice scratchy.

Jade nodded. She dropped her arm, stepping back and giving Harry some space.

Harry murmured, “Thanks,” and walked away, leaving a hurt Jade with wide puppy eyes in his wake.

He plopped himself back on the beanbag chair, his eyes briefly glancing over to where Niall walked up to her and rubbed her shoulders. She pressed her face to his shoulder, Niall holding her tightly. Niall glared at Harry, the usual cheery Irish charm washed away with directed anger.

Guilt bubbled inside Harry. He sank further into the beanbag chair, pouting. Louis took a long drag from the beer and caught his gaze, his eyebrow arching. He knocked his knee with him, his gaze imploring. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Something wrong, Styles?” he asked with amusement lifting his voice.

“No. Everything’s fanfuckingtastic.” Louis frowned at his words. Harry leaned over and stole the beer from his hands, taking a long sip and handed it back. He wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand. “Fucking gross. I hate ginger ale.”

“I know you do,” Louis replied calmly.

His eyes flitted to Harry’s slick lips then back up to his eyes. He took another sip and settled back in the chair, palms patting on his thighs to the beat of the song.

“Gonna smoke with Zayn,” Harry muttered, eyeing Zayn leaving the open space with a pack of Marlboros.

“You don’t smoke though,” Louis said, his eyebrows pinching together.

His eyes chased Harry as he stood up and walked upstairs.

"I picked it up just now,” Harry replied casually.

After Harry searched the entirety of the house and found no Zayn artfully draped over furniture, Harry opened Niall’s door ajar. There, against the gleaming moonlight and looking like a fucking Renaissance painting (Harry didn’t know how Zayn managed to do that) he found him leaning over the banister, smoke curling around in the air. He walked tentatively to him and slid next to him, his arms hanging over the banister railing.

“Want one?” Zayn asked lazily, mouthing around the burning cigarette.

“Yes. Please.”

Zayn looked at him in surprise. He arched his eyebrow but handed one over nonetheless. “Since when do you smoke?” he questioned faux astounded.

“Now,” Harry answered.

Zayn hummed. “Now, what you wanna do is…” he explained casually.

Harry shushed him. “Yeah, yeah whatever. It’s a cigar Zayn, not rocket science.”

He wrapped his lips around the cigarette and flickered the fire into life. He cupped his hand around the burning fire and sucked in. As the nicotine dissolved on his tongue, Harry sputtered out the cigarette, smoke fuming out of his mouth and nose. The lit cigarette fell to the floor. He stepped on it to burn it out while he coughed harshly, smoke scratching his throat raw.

“Not rocket science, huh,” Zayn murmured, his eyes dancing with the flicker of light coming from the end of his cigarette.

“Fuck. How can you stand chain smoking those all day?”

“It’s a bad habit.”

“Sure.”

“Besides,” Zayn said around a curl of smoke. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. The moonlight illuminated the side of his face in sparkling light. “Liam kind of digs it.  He thinks it’s sexy.”

“Ugh. You’re perfect for each other.”

“I know. Just like Jade and Niall.”

“Yeah. I feel like proper shit,” Harry muttered sadly. He mirrored Zayn’s posture with his hands shoved in his own pockets, looking out at the green, spacious lawn. Jade’s hurt face flashed across his eyes. He winced. “I was shitty to her even though she was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, I know. Niall was furious.”

“Was he?” Harry winced again. A guilt flush spread across his cheeks, flaming his face red. “How mad was he?”

“Mmm, not much considering Jade told him it was no big deal. Then he drank a beer, beat Liam at the fouse table, and it was back to chipper old Niall again. He doesn’t get mad for too long, you know the Irish lad. I think happiness is in their genes.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, right.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward now that Zayn wasn’t filling in the empty gaps of silence with his lazy words. He thumbed behind himself, walking backwards slowly.

“I think I’m just gonna head out now. Say bye to the lads and all that.”

“Say bye to Louis from me.”

“Pardon me?” Harry asked, his brows twitching.

He stopped trying to slowly disengage himself from the conversation and stared at Zayn’s profile, all smoke and words dripping down his throat.

Zayn shifted around and leaned against the railing. He plucked a piece of lint off his black leather jacket and stared at it intently.

“He likes you, you know. Told me the other night.”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He stared dumbfounded at Zayn.

“What other night? When did you talk to him?”

Zayn shrugged casually, finally letting go of the piece of lint. He flicked on the lighter over his cigarette again when the wind blew it away. The small lit fire glowed a hazy orange on the sharp, edge-cutting features of his face.

“When I slept over at your house. Called me on the phone and babbled about you all night. Said he couldn’t sleep. I was literally dozing off because he rambled on and on about the color of your eyes and the shape of your lips and blah, blah, blah. Honestly, how can you stand him? He’s an utter sap.”

Harry was sure he stopped breathing. Louis called Zayn on the phone to talk about Harry? Specifically, ramble about Harry? Was that why he was so angry at Harry? Because he confided in Zayn and found out he cuddled with Harry? He had so many questions and no one to ask them to.

“He talked about me? About the color of my eyes and…and…my mouth? What else did he say about me?” Harry asked frantically, eyes widening, breath stuttering.

Zayn opened and closed his mouth several times. He seemed torn between telling Harry and keeping his mouth shut. Ultimately he shook his head and said, “I think it’s not my right to tell you that. If you wanna know, ask Lou,” because he was a good friend that respected their said friend’s privacy. Harry respected that.

“I—uh—okay,” Harry said shakily, all breath rushing back to him.

He walked back inside Niall’s bedroom and looked back at Zayn one last time. Zayn flicked him a wave and turned back around, crossing his arms on the railing. Harry gulped and walked out.

When he jogged down the steps and found Liam, Niall, and Jade crowded around Louis, hearing him talk about a story animatedly with alive eyes and bright gestures, Harry didn’t have the heart to interrupt him. Louis absolutely glowed when he was the center of attention. He once remembered when Louis was his, and his glow was still there, except it was dimmed low, with quiet smiles and soft breathing. Harry thought maybe Louis had a feeling for him then.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. Four heads immediately whipped at the sound. Jade looked at him with wide, alert eyes before they dulled, guarded. Harry’s heart hurt.

“I’m just heading out. Niall, thanks for the good time. I had fun.”

Niall nodded curtly. No one made an attempt to walk him out or greet their goodbye’s, simply stayed quiet. Even Liam who was so friendly and amicable remained silent, understanding that there was a tension in the room caused by Harry’s sudden presence. Alright then.

“Niall, walk with me?” Harry asked timidly.

Niall seemed hesitant. He kissed Jade on the cheek and stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets. Harry’s eyes lingered on Louis who looked down. He resumed his frantic gestures and bright eyes. He cleared his throat and continued his story in a soft rasp.

His eyes flitted to Harry’s briefly. Harry thought he saw _something_ there, something worth fighting for. He must have been wrong since Louis avoided eye contact with him and picked up on his animated story telling.

“Yeah, so there I was right, and…”

Harry tore his gaze away. “C’mon, you oaf,” Niall muttered in his ear, dragging him away with a sharp tug of his elbow. He let himself be carried away while Louis’ soft words echoed in the background. His feet felt heavier with every dragged footstep. His heart ached for him to go back and fix things with Louis, even if he didn’t have Louis the way he wanted. He preferred to have Louis as a friend and as a hook up even if that meant he would be unloved for the rest of his life. Louis ruined Harry for anybody else.

Harry and Niall reached the front door. Harry walked out and turned around, watching as Niall leaned against the doorframe. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, his elegant face morphed into distaste. It was like Niall was staring at Harry like he was rubbish.

“Niall,” he started at the same time Niall said, “Harry.”

Niall lifted up a hand. “What you said to Jade man, not cool. She was hurt. She was only trying to be your friend.”

“I know, I’m sorry Niall. I feel pathetic. I’m an arsehole—”

“You are,” Niall interrupted. “But you shouldn’t be apologizing to me, you know that right?”

Harry nodded pathetically. “I know.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You don’t think I can go in there and apologize to her right now, do you?

“Not a chance mate. I think she needs to cool down. She said she’s not mad, but I can feel it on her. S’weird. Does love make you know how your partner feels or some shit like that?”

Eloquence Niall, eloquence. It still made Harry’s lips quirk.

“Yeah, it does.”

“Hmm. Interesting.” Niall shrugged anyways. “But other than that, it was good to have you here.”

“Always.” Harry shouldered the strap on his backpack before he remembered the container of cookies. “Oh! My mum made you some chocolate chip cookies in gratitude of making the bed even though we both know it was Jade who cleaned up.”

He pulled the plastic container of cookies out of his unzipped backpack and presented them to Niall.

Niall’s eyes immediately brightened up. “Nice! Thank _you_ Jade.” He licked his lips and popped open the lid, taking one out. He devoured the whole cookie and rubbed his stomach, smiling with crumbs of cookie falling to his chin. “These are delicious. Want one?”

Harry pressed his lips together and declined politely. “All yours. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Niall hummed his response happily. He eyed the cookies hungrily and munched another, mouth falling open on a moan. Harry chuckled lowly and turned around before he saw Niall’s pornography featuring chocolate chip cookies.

“Hey Haz?”

Harry turned around at the sound of his voice. He raised his eyebrow, lips popping out to reply, “Yeah?”

“Fix your shit out with Louis, okay? All that sexual tension is driving me fucking insane. It’s like an anticipated pornography shoot in there.”

Harry eyed the cookies and the chocolate smeared on Niall’s puffy lips. He laughed quietly, pressing a fist to his mouth. “It’s not sexual tension, just tension but yeah, okay. Do _you_ want to see a porn between me and Lou?”

Niall clutched a hand to his chest. “N-No,” he sputtered, cookie crumbs spewing everywhere. “Who said I ship you two together? Psh, not me.”

“I never said you did,” Harry replied with mirth twinkled eyes.

“Get on out of here before I shove a cookie down your throat.”

Harry laughed brightly at Niall’s ridiculous words, shaking his head fondly. He waved at him and picked up his bicycle, throwing a leg over the seat and climbing on top. He started bicyling down the road, Niall watching him leave before moaning again at another mouthful of cookies and closing the door behind him.

At a stop sign, Harry landed his feet on the sidewalk and took out his phone, thumbing out an apology text to Jade who had slipped in her number some time before without his knowing.

**Hey Jade, it’s me Harry. I’m sorry about everything. I know you were just looking out for me. Truce?**

_Truce. Don’t worry about it, worry about other things, like fixing things with Lou_

**Working on it. Love you Jade.**

_I love you too, Har-bear_

If only Harry could mend the spaces between him and Louis. Then everything would fall into place.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tries to move on.

* * *

Louis visited Harry late Tuesday night.

Harry was swaddled in too hot blankets and used tissues, his eyes puffy and red and his lips wet with tears. He was watching _Love Actually_ for the fourth time, binge watching romantic comedies in order to have an excuse to cry over his broken shards of glass heart. He blew his nose, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and drowning in his own pity and tears. Just a typical Tuesday night.

The doorbell rang but Harry was too enraptured in the film to begrudgingly get up and answer it. Anne shook his head at him and went to grab the door. She opened it to reveal Louis, dressed down in a comfy jumper and baggie track pants. He had a beanie pulled over his ears and was shouldering a backpack as well. He was toeing the welcome home mat on the floor, looking up at Anne with a sheepish smile.

“Louis,” Anne greeted with a warm smile. “What brings you here? Are you staying for the night?”

“Ah, no,” Louis answered, sharp teeth snagging on his lower lip. “I just came to visit Harry. Is he home?”

“Yes, yes, come in. He’s in the living room.”

She swung the door open wider and allowed him to walk inside, Louis toeing off his Adidas trainers by the door.

“Thank you Mrs. Styles,” he answered politely.

“No problem and please, call me Anne.”

“Thank you Mrs. Anne.”

“What a charmer.” She pinched his cheek and walked over to the living room, placing a hand on the doorframe. “Honey, dear, Louis’ here to see you.”

“Very funny mum,” Harry sniffled.

Anne smiled with sparkling eyes to Louis. She closed her mouth with a press of her fingertips, her smile curling up in a smirk. “I’ll leave you two to chat,” she whispered, patting Louis’ back and leaving him alone. Louis watched her feeling breathless. His eyes traced over to Harry who was burrowed in a cocoon of blankets, only his curly hair poking through.

Louis chuckled to himself and walked closer. He poked Harry’s head through the dark blue blanket. Harry startled, looking up at him with wide, surprised eyes. He gaped, fish-mouthing at him while colors washed over his delicate features.

“Lou—Louis, what are you doing here?”

“Your mum let me in.” Louis thumbed behind himself, tilting his head to the left. “She told you I was here just a minute ago?”

“Oh, right.” Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, pressing himself to the opposite end of the couch and leaving a distinct space between them. “Sorry. Sit down.”

Louis sat down tentatively. He picked up a used tissue and scrunched his nose, flicking the tissue for it to land on the coffee table. “Sorry about that,” Harry murmured, a blush coating his cheeks. He went to gather the used tissues and threw them in the wastebasket.

Louis eyed him carefully. He noticed Harry’s wet eyes, his red, blotchy cheeks and crimson, bitten lips. “Watching Love Actually again?” he teased, his eyes knowing. Harry flicked off the television, wiping his hand on his nose again.

“Yeah,” Harry said wobbly, licking his lips. “How’d you know?”

Louis pursued his lips in silent amusement. “’Cause you always cry when you watch it.”

“Right,” Harry laughed, his voice raspy. “Um. What brings you here?”

He realized how condescending he sounded and took back the words. His eyes widened. “Oh god, I didn’t mean to sound so rude! I just meant…like…What are you doing here? Oh my god, I did it again! I, um—“

“Harry, Harry,” Louis laughed, his voice gentle. He grabbed his wrists to stop him from sputtering out apologies, his thumbs running over the tender, thin skin. “You’re not being rude. I came by ‘cause I wanted to see you, that’s all.”

Harry stared at him in bewilderment. He glanced down at their hands, Louis’ thumbs smoothing over the skin. Louis noticed his stare and dropped his hands. He scooted back farther and placed his hands on his thighs, placing some distance between them. Harry breathed out a, “Huh,” their silence still permitting the air.

Louis tucked the cotton gray beanie behind his ears. He picked at a loose thread on his track pants and opened his mouth to speak. His voice was raspy and yet gentle and Harry didn’t realize up until now how much he desperately missed hearing his soothing voice.

“I came by, well, to talk to you. I feel really badly how things are between us. Can’t help to think it’s all my fault. And don’t be a martyr Harry, I have as much fault as you do. I just, want things to go back between us, you know? I might be a selfish bastard but I miss you Harry. I miss getting to talk to you and kissing you and all that good stuff.  I miss whatever we were. You’re my best mate. So that’s why I came, ‘cause I miss you and I want you to slap me ‘cause I love the pain too.” His curling lips conveyed he was teasing him, Harry cocking his head and smiling in return. “We can be even now.”

“There’s no need for that Lou. And for the record, I miss you a lot too, a hell of a lot. I miss spending my days with you and nights. And I’ve been thinking about this a lot and you know what? You’re right. We’re too young in this world to know what we want. I was just babbling the other day. I’ll be your best mate Lou. But this means that I could only be your best mate.” Louis’ smiling face faltered at that. Harry thought he saw a brief flash of _something_ in his eyes but he must have been imagining it because it was gone as quickly as it came. Harry swallowed and continued. “I don’t think…I don’t think I can go back to being _that_ with you. Not again. Not with you.”

“Wha—What do you mean not with me?” Louis asked, his eyes sharp.

“As much as I don’t know what I’m talking about, I think it hurts even more to have _that_ with you without truly having you. It’s just something my heart’s telling me, you know? I can’t be your best mate _and_ hook up with you. Someone’s bound to get hurt. And I’m not putting my heart on the line again. There’s so much a person can take. So either you can have me as your mate or not have me at all.”

Harry sucked a sharp intake of breath. There. He said it. All that has been building up was boiling over into the air. Louis’ expression wasn’t what he expected though. He thought maybe Louis would be happy that Harry wanted to be his friend again but he seemed caught off guard. Hurt, almost. But that couldn’t be. Louis didn’t want _anything_ with him and that was exactly what Harry was giving him. Shouldn’t he be happy?

“I—yeah, of course.” Louis narrowed his eyes, his lower lip disappearing inside his mouth. He gnawed on the tender skin viciously, contemplating the words. “You’re my best mate first and foremost.”

“So, best mates then?”

“Of course Harry.”

Harry nodded. He shrugged his shoulder, keeping his voice level with his next few words.

“I guess this means we’ll see other people then. Are you okay with that?”

He gauged Louis’ reaction for discomfort, but Louis brushed it off, simply shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Bloody hell this isn’t an intervention Harry for fuck’s sake. You can fuck whoever you like, I don’t care.”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly before he added, “You too, by the way.”

“Duh,” Louis said it like it was an obvious statement.

“Alright.” Harry clapped his hands alike a businessman that just finished an important meeting. He supposed it was. “All’s forgiven.”

Louis rolled his eyes again. A smile pulled on his face while he spread his legs and opened his arms. His voice was soft and maybe sprinkled with fond as he said, “Come here you knob.”

Harry pressed into him eagerly, his arms wrapping around him instinctually. Louis hugged his arms around Harry’s body, pressing him into his chest. Harry nuzzled his face in his neck and breathed him in. He smelled like clean soap and warm and like home. Louis was Harry’s home. It was all too familiar.

Harry pulled away reluctantly even though Louis didn’t seem to mind that they embraced each other past the normal amount of time. He rested his hands on the tops of his shoulders, thumbs digging in. Louis arched into his touch like he always did before. A lump formed in Harry’s throat at the familiarity of it all. This ‘being friends thing’ was going to be harder than he initially thought.

Still, he mustered up a breath and said, “Wanna watch the rest of Love Actually?” He flicked his eyes over to the black television screen, raising his eyebrows up suggestively.

Louis sighed long-suffering. He breathed out, “Fine. If you must indulge me,” while rolling his eyes again. He added, “I’m glad you’re back in my life Haz. I missed you,” in a soft breath.

“I missed you too,” Harry replied honestly.

He made way to tuck himself into the farthest corner of the couch to give Louis some space but instead Louis wrapped his arms around him and pulled his back to his chest. Harry rushed out a quiet, “Oh,” that was too soft for Louis to hear. Louis spread his legs wider, allowing Harry some bum space. Harry adjusted himself until he got comfortable, his head pressed under Louis’ chin.

Louis was warm and cozy. There was no other way to describe it. His skin was never icy cold the way Harry’s was and his mouth always tasted like peppermint in the morning whereas Harry sported some awful morning breath. Louis would kiss him all the same.

Harry was going to miss it all. He was going to miss Louis’ fingertips stroking his arm absentmindedly while he talked to Zayn or Niall and he was going to miss stolen kisses under the bleachers before a big game and he was going to miss Louis kissing his flushed cheeks after sex, taking care of him afterwards and licking him clean. But he was going to miss Louis most of all. He was going to miss his raspy voice in the mornings and his messy fringe and his burnt toast for breakfast and the crinkles by his eyes. He was going to miss him.

Harry felt the same knot form in his throat, the same tears prickle the corners of his eyes, the same pulse rapidly beating like a thumping rabbit’s foot. He rubbed his blotchy face, willing himself not to cry again. Not in front of Louis. He was never going to let him see him cry.

 _One more time_ , Harry thought. _One more time and I’ll move on. I’ll forget and I’ll find someone new. Just, please, one more time._

Harry didn’t dwell on it much longer. He turned around in between Louis’ thighs and faced Louis. Louis looked at him with surprise etched across his features, his brows rising.

“Hey Curly, whatcha doing?” he asked, eyes racing back and forth.

Harry’s gaze dropped to his thin lips. They were chapped and a little bit bitten. Perfect lips. The perfect shape for his own full mouth. He cupped his face and thumbed underneath his pale blue eyes in the dark. Louis’ soft breath smoothed over his mouth. Harry closed his eyes and leaned in.

Kissing Louis was like breathing again. Like rising up for air after you’ve been underwater for too long. Like coming out in the sunlight after you’ve been in the darkness your whole life. Like seeing color for the first time. Kissing Louis felt like forever. Louis was Harry’s forever.

Harry kissed him until their lips bruised. He sucked on his top lip and licked inside, tasting his warm, soft tongue. He sucked noisily on his lip and pressed reverent kiss after kiss. He never wanted to stop. He breathed him in and kissed him, relishing in the way Louis panted out these soft, little breaths into his mouth.

Harry swallowed down Louis’ moans. He felt lightheaded, their lips molding perfectly together. They were made to be together. Harry bit on his lower lip, Louis opening his mouth and moaning like a pliant kitty. Harry sucked on his tongue while Louis’ breath fawned over his face. He released his tongue with a wet pop and kissed his closed lips with shining, red lips.

Harry pulled away, fluttering his eyes awake. Louis’ pupils were dilated, his mouth parting open. “What was that for?” he breathed, eyes darting back and forth. Harry pouted, jutting out his lower lip. Louis nuzzled his nose on his cheek and kissed his puffy lips. He stayed there for a beat while Harry’s heart thumped weakly in his chest.

“For old time’s sake. You know, since we’re done and over with,” Harry said quietly, his words too loud in the silent room.

Louis inspected him curiously. His eyebrows pinched together. His expression was…undecipherable. It was a mix of emotions and Harry couldn’t pinpoint an exact one. But if he had to, it would be disappointment flashing across Louis’ ocean eyes. Or was it hurt? Maybe a combination of both.

 _I always thought we were for forever,_ Harry repeated inside his head.

 _We were,_ Harry thought Louis responded back, a sad smile licking over his lips.

Wordlessly, Harry turned back around in Louis’ arms and sat on his lap. He could feel Louis’ half hard cock digging into his arse. How easy it would be to just slip his hand down smooth skin and grip him hard. Or how mutually beneficial it would be to slide down on his knees and suck him raw. He could even explain _for old time’s sake_ again, moaning around Louis’ length while he admired his clenched eyes and rapt breaths. But he wasn’t falling into old habits again. If he did, he would never know how to get out of his and Louis’ mess. Because that’s what they were. A mess. A beautiful fucking chaotic mess.

"Hey," Louis breathed out, warm puffs of air tickling his cheek.

He pressed a hand to Harry's waist, the heat of his palm spreading outwards. He grabbed his backpack and zipped it open, revealing two sweating beers. Louis waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Wanna get drunk?"

"Louis Tomlinson," Harry said, pretending to be shocked. "Are you trying to sleep with me?"

Louis laughed abruptly, his raspy laughter bouncing off the walls. Harry beamed, a little bit dazed just by watching his smiling naked face. 

"No," Louis laughed, his giggles quieting down. "Just figured for old time's sake, you know?"

Harry knew exactly what he meant. Sometimes they would get tipsy and he would blow him with flushed dappled cheeks, Louis' eyes shining. They would cuddle afterwards with sweaty skin, feeling fuzzy and warm poist coital. It was like being in the clouds.

Harry accepted a beer from Louis, fingering the label.

"Cheers," Louis said, clinking the beer against his. 

Harry settled back on Louis' lap and swallowed a mouthful. Instantly, he felt the warm feeling from the beer flush across his lower belly. Harry and Louis giggled together and teased one another, already tipsy from one beer. 

They watched the rest of the movie in silence. Harry shifted in his spot on Louis’ lap, Louis groaning a bit. Harry bit back a smirk. His smirk diminished into a soft smile as he felt the cool press of Louis’ lips against his temple. He closed his eyes as Louis’ arms wrapped around his waist.

He felt at peace wrapped up in Louis’ warmth. Home.

. . .

Being friends with Louis Tomlinson was not easy. In fact, it was unfair. It was cruel. It was fucking torture.

Harry had to endure Louis flirting unabashedly with everything that walked on legs. Once, he even had to bite back a scowl while Louis flirted with Zayn, fluttering his eyelashes and stroking his arm. Zayn had rolled his eyes and muttered, “Wanker,” while pushing him off but Harry didn’t miss how Zayn’s pupils dilated and leaned in closer to Louis’ touch. He couldn’t blame him. Louis was charming. Simple as that.

He was sitting at one of the library’s tables with a book to cover his frown. Jade was sitting beside him, quietly chatting away about her day. He stared intently as Louis leaned over the counter, resting his chin on his palm and flirting with the pretty student librarian. Harry even had to admit she was pretty. All auburn red hair and pink painted lips, freckles dotting her face under clear blue eyes. But fuck her. And fuck Louis too.

His eyes narrowed that much more as Louis’ mouth moved and the pretty librarian giggled into her fist. She wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it over to Louis who mouthed, “Wow,” and winked at her, walking away. Harry’s skin flushed with anger and jealousy.

“Harry, Harry.” Jade’s voice repeated in his ear. He blinked rapidly and looked to her.

"What?” he asked, if a bit annoyed.

She looked at him like it wasn’t the second time she said his name. She crossed her arms on the table, her plucked eyebrow arching ever so slightly.

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Yes.” Harry pursed his lips and puffed air into his cheeks. He blew air out of his lips, thinking quickly. “You were talking about Perrie.”

“What about Perrie?”

“Um.” Harry closed one eye, thinking back. He recalled something about purple hair. “She has cool purple hair.”

Jade looked flabbergasted. “Um. Well. You got away with this one but I swear you weren’t listening!”

A swell of pride flushed across his chest. “Yeah, yeah,” he brushed her off, picking up a pair of binoculars. He pressed them to his eyes and adjusted the lenses. A clear picture of Louis and Liam came into view.

“Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

She placed a hand on the binoculars and pushed them down. Harry frowned at her. He picked them up and adjusted the view, his lip jutting out.

“No I’m not,” he argued weakly.

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

She pushed them down again. Harry stared at her angrily with a picture perfect of _‘What?’_

“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on Louis you would notice that that boy over there has been staring at you for half an hour!”

She pointed at a boy with ruffled, blonde hair. Harry frowned but looked at where her finger pointed nonetheless. He waved at the boy, the boy ducking behind a book, his cheeks flushing red. Cute. But not quite his type. He liked boys that were cute and hot at the same time. Like Louis…

“See? You’re not even paying attention. You’re looking at Louis again.”

Harry huffed out a breath. Jade was right. He was staring intently at Louis. More specifically, on the clothes on Louis’ back. Louis was wearing a plain blue open shirt over a white shirt, paired off with black Adidas sweatpants with a stripe running down. He wore black Vans to top off the whole look. More importantly, he looked like a fucking dream. A beautiful, wet dream.

“I think you need to go on a date.”

“What?” Harry asked, whipping his head around to face her, disbelief coloring his voice.

“Yeah. I think you need to go on a date. And…” She pointed at the boy again who was still hiding behind the book pretending to read it. “I think you should go ask out that guy to that cute café you like.”

“The café’s not cute. It’s cozy.” Harry looked at her with a bored expression on his face. “And no.”

“Exactly. Cute and cozy. And why not? Is it because you’re too hung up on Louis Tomlinson?”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am—“

“Babe. You’re looking at him right now!”

Fuck, she was right. Maybe he _was_ too hung up on Louis. Harry tore his gaze away from Louis, focusing his attention on Jade and her calm, patient face. Harry adored her.

“Look. That thing you said about giving him space and time? How long is it gonna be until he comes back and declares his profound and undying love for me?”

Jade laughed. She cocked her head, studying him. “Love,” she said, placing her hand gently on top of his. “It’s going to take time. Besides, might as well use this time to flirt with cute boys and go on dates with them. Look at Lou! He’s already got that librarian’s number.”

Harry scowled. Jade laughed harder at that. The librarian (what’s her name?) stared at her angrily and shushed her, pressing a finger to the center of her lips. Jade pressed fingertips to her giggling mouth, mouthing, “Sorry!” He scowled at the librarian even more.

Harry bit the inside of his lip. Maybe Jade was right. Maybe he needed to clear his mind and kiss pretty boys on the lips while he forgot about Louis. Maybe he could fall in love again, a love that wouldn’t use him for his mouth or for his good skilled hands. Maybe.

“Okay,” Harry said, firm. “I’ll go ask that guy on a date.”

“Really?” Jade asked, surprise lifting her voice. “Yay!” She clapped her hands excitedly.

The librarian shushed her again with irate eyes. Jade shook her head and smiled to herself. “I’m gonna leave before they kick me out,” she whispered and stood up, grabbing her books and leaving quietly. The librarian stared at her until she left, her eyes piercing into a hawk stare. Harry didn’t understand how Louis thought she was cute.

“Psycho,” Harry muttered, albeit a little too loudly.

The librarian glared at him. “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice shrill.

Harry shrugged, pressing his lips together. The librarian scoffed and went back to typing furiously on her keyboard. He approached the shy boy and shoved his hands in his pockets. The boy looked at him and squeaked, slouching even more in his seat. Harry chuckled. Cute.

“Hey,” he said, making his voice deep and raspy the way interested boys liked. “Um. My friend over there saw you staring at me.”

The boy cleared his voice. “Um, yeah?”

Honest _and_ cute. Hm.

“Well I was just wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me? To that little corner café down the street?”

The boy widened his eyes in surprise, biting his lip. His lower lip popped out, glistening and red. Harry tracked the motion while he waited for his response.

“Sure,” he said quietly.

“My name’s Harry Styles by the way. Nice to meet you.”

He extended his hand out for the boy to take in his. “Troye Oceans. Nice to meet you too,” he replied, his voice gaining confidence. They shook hands, Harry pulling his away.

“Cool name.”

“Thanks.”

Silence ensued.

“Well.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling shy all of a sudden. “I best be going. See you tonight then? At seven?”

“Sounds good,” Troye said, his voice crystalized and smooth. Like diamonds.

Harry smiled. He waved at him and started walking towards the exit, feeling proud of himself. He was gonna go on a date with a pretty boy and a sharp smile and he wasn’t even thinking about Louis. Naturally, that’s when he bumped into Louis. Of course this would happen to him.

“Hey,” Louis said, his voice gentle.

He pushed Harry’s chest away. Harry looked at him with wide eyes. His face flushed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“You okay there? You look a bit ill,” Louis said, assessing him with his eyes.

Harry felt caught. Like he was committing a crime even though all he did was ask someone out. He felt like his heart still belonged to Louis and he was cheating on him.

“Um,” he squeaked out. Louis’ eyebrows furrowed. Even Liam looked at him with questioning, curious big brown eyes. “Bye!” he rushed out, bumping his shoulder against his and running away. Louis and Liam looked at him with wide eyes, exchanging glances back and forth.

If only Harry could run away from his problems, then everything would be okay.

Hours later, Harry was getting ready for his date. He looked…nice. Well, according to his mum he looked, “So gorgeous. Let me take a picture love!” while he muttered, “Mum,” and rolled his eyes, Anne flashing picture after picture. His smile only faded when his mum asked, “Are you going on a date with Louis then?”

He carded his fingers through luscious curls, fluffed up by his life saving blow-dryer. He was decked out in a simple black button up, paired with black skinnies slit at the knees and his favorite pair of Chelsea boots. He wouldn’t describe himself as gorgeous but yeah, Harry would shag himself.

The doorbell above the door tinkled. And okay, maybe Jade was right about that too. The café was certainly cozy and cute. He ignored her message of _Ahhh, send me the deets! Wear protection ;) xx_ and walked towards Troye. He was dressed down in a cream colored cable knit sweater and dark washed jeans, paired off with suede boots. He looked…good. Harry appreciated a guy that could clean up well.

“Hey Troye,” Harry greeted.

Troye scrambled to get up and opened his arms, hugging Harry briefly. He breathed out, “Harry,” a bit breathlessly. Harry let go and sat down as Troye pulled the chair out for him. He looked at him confusedly, the lines on his forehead creasing.

They ordered and sipped their drinks, chatting quietly. The atmosphere in the café was soft and mellow and pretty soon Harry was warm with wine, his lips painted a berry red. Tyler laughed at all his jokes and nodded in all the right places. He fed Harry some of his food and was polite and delightful. Harry could easily say that their date was a success. Until, of course, it wasn’t anymore.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Troye asked, eyes shining from the wine.

“Sure. I love secrets,” Harry replied, resting his chin on his palm.

His cheeks were flushed and his neck was warm. He felt fuzzy from all the wine and Troye’s laughter, smooth like butter. He could easily get used to his quiet smiles and odd jokes. They got on really well and it was kind of perfect really.

“I’ve had a crush on you all four years actually. I would follow you everywhere. It was kind of ridiculous really. My friends would all tease me about it. They would always say stuff like, “Where’s your boy?” It’s stupid, I know,” Troye admitted with flushed cheeks.

Harry’s movements faltered. He knocked over his glass of wine, red seeping into the white tablecloth. “Fuck,” he cursed, dabbing at the wine with trembling fingers. Troye looked at him with confused eyes. Harry threw a napkin over the stain and rested his elbow to the covered stain, pressing his fist to his cheek. His eyes widened when Troye was simply staring at him.

“Oh. Um. No, s’not weird. It’s nice I guess.”

“You guess?” Troye asked, his eyes sagging.

“No, no!” Harry rushed out. “I mean, yes. Definitely. It’s sweet.”

“Oh,” Troye exhaled a long breath. He tucked a wisp of hair behind his ear with delicate fingers. “I was worried you were gonna think I was a creep. Or worse, a stalker. Just because I know your school schedule does _not_ mean I’m a creepy stalker.”

“Why would I think that? Why would anyone think that? That’s crazy. Not, you’re not crazy but people thinking that is crazy,” Harry squeaked.

His usual monotone deep drawl was replaced by a high pitched tone. Troye’s eyebrows rose. Harry pulled the collar from his neck away, blowing air out of his lips. He felt hot all of a sudden.

“Crazy,” he murmured, his voice high.

“Um. Are you okay?”

“Yep. Definitely. Why wouldn’t I be? Are you okay?” Harry babbled.

“Um,” Troye started, his voice drifting. His eyes hovered on somebody over Harry’s shoulder. “Hey. You know what’s funny?”

Harry shook his head, prattling, “Nope. Is it a joke? I love jokes. Knock knock. Who’s there?”

“I was a little bit surprised ‘cause I always thought you had a boyfriend.”

“Who?”

“Louis Tomlinson of course. You guys were practically attached to the hip. There were rumors around that you two were shagging, that’s why he was always so late to his games. Good thing it was just a rumor and not true ‘cause then you would have never asked me out.”

Troye beamed and placed his hand atop Harry’s, running his thumb across the smooth skin.

There were rumors going around that they were an exclusive thing? A couple? Hell, even everybody knew they loved each other. Well, Louis never _told_ Harry that he loved him but Harry could almost _feel_ it with every press of his lips, every time he stroked his warm skin and looked at him with such fondness. He was sure of it. Even the moon knew they were in love.

Harry frowned, pulling his hand away. Troye’s own eyebrows scrunched together. He opened his mouth to say something but Harry beat him to the punch, interrupting him.

“Why would you say something like that?”

“Because he’s right behind you.”

Harry whipped his head around. And sure enough there he was, checking in at the registration desk with that same bitchy pretty librarian wrapped to his arm. Like a fucking accessory. His face flamed with appointed anger. He harshly whispered, “Excuse me for a bit,” and stood up abruptly, the chair falling to the floor.

He approached Louis and said, “What are you doing here?” before he touched his arm.

Louis looked at him startled. His eyes softened when he realized it was only Harry. Which made Harry feel warm all over, a flush spreading across his cheeks and neck. Still, he stood his stance and crossed his arms against his chest, his eyes narrowing.

“I’m taking a friend out for dinner,” he replied casually, lifting up his arm to show the librarian’s nails digging into his skin.

And fuck no. Harry was the only one who was allowed to touch Louis. Besides, Louis was a frailty and he deserved to be touched and caressed with soft words and tender touches, not some slag who dug her red painted fingernails into his flesh.

(Yes, Harry might have asked people about the librarian. Yes, he found out she was a bit of a slag who slept with boys on the first date much to his delight. But Louis was her date for tonight and fuck no, Harry was not happy with that.)

“Friend?” she asked, her voice harsh. She pulled her hand away as if she was offended. “Excuse me. I’m going to the loo to powder my nose.” With that, she left in a whiff of awful perfume.

Harry scrunched up his nose. “Really? The librarian? _That’s_ the best you can do?” he asked seriously, his eyebrow arching.

“Well,” Louis crossed his arms, his own curved eyebrow arched. “What do you got? I don’t see _your_ date.”

Harry moved away so he could show Troye’s presence. He thumbed behind himself, saying, “You’re wrong,” smugly.

“Oh.” Louis looked him up and down. His eyes narrowed, turning his gaze to Harry. “At least Lindsay puts out. Your date looks like a prude,” he said in a hurtful tone.

Harry gaped at him. He furrowed his eyebrows and felt his face flushing with anger more than jealousy. “That’s disrespectful and you know it. Besides, what are you doing here? Are you following me now?”

“Christ Harry,” Louis rolled his eyes, huffing out an exaggerated breath. “Yes, I follow you around like a damn lost puppy because I’m in love with you.”

“You are?” Harry asked, heart soaring.

Louis stilled. His voice was pinged with sadness when he opened his mouth to say, “No.”

Everything was white noise. Harry nodded curtly, muttering out, “Right,” and swiftly turning around on his heels. This time, Louis didn’t call out his name. Harry didn’t expect him to. He picked up his chair and sat down, crossing his arms on the table. He gnawed on his lower lip harshly until he tasted the metallic tinge of blood.

“Is everything okay?” Troye asked softly, his gaze imploring.

Troye was a good lad. Troye didn’t seem like the type to break Harry’s heart. So Harry managed a weak smile and breathed, “Yeah.” He smiled even wider when Troye showed off a line of perfectly, straight teeth.

“So, Troye. How long have you had an obsessive crush on me?” he asked teasingly.

Troye laughed, loud and bright in all the places, and began his story. Harry pressed a fist to his cheek and smiled, nodding along to Troye’s story, ignoring the twisting feeling in his gut.

His gaze flitted to where Louis pulled out a chair for Lindsay, proper gentleman and all that. He smoothed his crisp white shirt and looked over the menu. Harry’s eyes traced over his soft fringe and sharp, blue blazer. Louis Tomlinson was all dressed up for Lindsay. She wouldn’t even know the first thing to do with him. She didn’t know all his soft spots or the places where he liked pressing fingertips harder or kissed better.

Louis caught his eye. Harry looked away suddenly, his face flaming. Louis’ intent cornflower eyes flickered into his memory as he listened to Troye for the rest of the night. Troye was a safe choice. Louis was a risk taker.

Harry was taking his chances.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis does something bad.

* * *

Troye walked Harry to his house once their date was over, Harry’s hands shoved deep inside his pockets. They were quietly walking side by side, leaves crunching underneath their boot cladded feet. Memories of last night burned at the back of Harry’s eyelids. He remembered Louis talking animatedly to Lindsay, all bright eyes and sharp teeth, and even recalled Louis taking off his blazer to wrap around her shivering arms. Harry didn’t care. Nope, not at all. Because Troye was right in front of him and being a perfect date (besides the creepy factor about him, no thanks).

They arrived at Harry’s front porch, the light flickering on and off. Harry pressed his lips together, smiling, standing awkwardly. Troye looked at him with a soft expression. He licked his lips, the wind ruffling leaves around his hair. Before he met Louis, Troye would be exactly the type of guy he would want. It was a shame.

“So. I had fun tonight,” Troye said, shyness licking his voice.

“Me too. We should do it again sometime,” Harry suggested.

As much as it hurt him, he needed to move on from Louis. If he wouldn’t give him what Harry wanted, what he deserved, then he would find somebody else. Somebody to kiss him good night and show him public displays of affection and do everything Louis wasn’t willing to try in front of others.

“Really?” Troye asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Dunno. Just thought you weren’t into me. You were acting kind of weird when I mentioned Louis.”

“Yeah, well. It’s a long story.” Troye grabbed his hand, gaze imploring. “I have time,” he replied smoothly.

And fuck, that was sweet wasn’t it? Harry deserved sweet, caring boys. But no, his limbs were tired from exhaustion and fake smiles and he wanted to sleep tonight off. Forget about Louis staring at someone else.

“I think I should just go to bed.” Harry pulled his hand away slowly, hesitantly.

“Oh. Yeah, ‘course,” Troye replied, hurt flashing across his eyes briefly.

Harry nodded, turning his head away to look at the door. How he wished for his mum to barge in outside and break the awkward tension in the air. Troye shifted before him, looking torn. Wordlessly, he grabbed Harry’s collar and pulled him, clashing his lips against his.

Harry stiffened. He felt Troye’s chapped lips mold against his. Harry pressed his lips tighter as Troye tried to slick his tongue inside. Instead, he relented and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Troye hummed confusedly and pecked his lips on Harry’s still mouth. He pulled away and licked his lips.

“Wow,” Troye breathed, breathlessly. He stared at Harry with stars in his eyes. “That was…”

“Mhm,” Harry grimaced. He thumbed behind himself, walking backwards and eyes darting around nervously. “I should go…”

“Yeah.” Troye smiled with sharp teeth. “Good night Harry.”

“Good night!” Harry yelled frantically, waving at him and turning around swiftly.

He jogged up the porch steps and flung the door open, practically stumbling inside. The door shut with a slam. He peered outside the window at Troye’s figure illuminated by the porch light. Troye smiled to himself and walked away. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and walked upstairs to his bedroom, his shoulders sagging. Once inside, he nicked the door shut and proceeded to rid of all his clothes, climbing inside his bed stark naked. He flicked the lights shut and squeezed his eyes shut.

Thinking _wrong, wrong, wrong._

Harry and Troye went on a few more dates for the next couple of weeks. Harry had to admit Troye’s shyness was kind of cute and his short stories were charming. He liked his cerulean colored eyes. And no, he wasn’t thinking about Louis with his sharp, cutting blue eyes or delicate wrists. They hung out at school and ate lunch together, Harry’s new circle of friends accepting him into their group easily. Once he told Jade that he was completely and done with Louis and interested in Troye instead, Jade squealed and hugged him tightly. He pretended to sputter out coughs and faint to the ground while Jade smacked his arm with fondness.

They were sitting around the lunch table, students fluttering around and being social butterflies. Apparently Troye was a drama geek and he was cast as Benvolio in their theatre’s tragic rendition of _Romeo and Juliet_. Louis was in the play too, cast as Romeo, of course. Harry was sure that if they did a Disney rendition, he would be cast as every Disney prince ever.

“That’s wonderful Troye! When’s the play?” Jade asked excitedly.

“It’s tonight actually, at eight. You’re all invited to come of course.” Troye bumped his shoulder against Harry’s, looping his arm around him and thumbing along his skin. “Love, you were the first on my invited list of guests.”

“Thanks,” Harry muttered, his face flushing.

Jade cooed in adoration as Niall cackled and Zayn rolled his eyes fondly. Harry never liked to be the center of attention. He always preferred watching other people and admire what they were like. Louis approached the table, his eyebrow arching. He peered at Troye with judging, assessing eyes.

“Louis,” Harry breathed, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “You remember Troye.”

“Of course. How could I forget?” Louis said, the words rolling off his tongue. “I’m Louis,” he said with scrutinized eyes, pulling out his hand to shake Troye’s.

Troye accepted it, shaking politely. “I know who you are. You’re practically famous around here.”

Louis smirked maliciously and squeezed his hand tighter. Harry stared at their intertwined hands. Louis let go and Troye squeaked, pulling his hand to himself and clenching his fingers. Harry held his hand and rubbed his red fingers with the other. Louis stared at their touch of contact with fiery eyes.

“Troye’s just been telling us he’s Benvolio in Romeo and Juliet. How brilliant is that?” Jade clued in Louis, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hmm,” Louis hummed, stabbing his green beans with his fork. He lifted up the prongs to his mouth, shoving the forkful of greens into his mouth and mumbling with his mouth full, “I know. I’ve rehearsed with him. You’re alright.”

“Lou,” Zayn grimaced, scooting away from him. “That’s disgusting. Don’t chew with your mouth open mate.”

Louis shrugged his shoulder unperturbed. Niall smiled brightly, lifting up his own forkful of green beans. “No, Lou’s got the right idea. Cheers mate.” They clinked prongs and Niall shoved a forkful into his mouth. Jade shook her head fondly and rested her head on Niall’s shoulder. Harry bit back a smile and looked at the floor. Louis caught his eye and smiled softly, chewing quietly.

Maybe the whole being friends with Louis thing was turning out to be alright after all. Harry looked at Troye and smiled wider. Maybe.

. . .

Harry was picking up red roses at the flower shop for Troye. He was late for his play but he decided he would be kissed once he showered him with rose petals. He thanked the kind old man at the cashier, his phone vibrating in his trousers pocket. He looked at Jade’s name splashed across his screen.

He picked up, murmuring, “Hullo?” in a deep drawl.

“Hey. Where are you?” Jade hissed quietly. “The play’s about to start.”

“I know, I know. I’m just picking up some stuff.”

Harry pressed the phone to his cheek and shoulder while he dug around for his car keys. Well, his dad’s car keys. He was generous enough to let him borrow it for tonight. He didn’t think bicycling at night wasn’t safe. Harry excluded the piece of information that he would sneak out in the night and bicycle to Louis’ house for a messy blowjob.

“What stuff?”

“Just, stuff," Harry reasoned calmly. He climbed in and shut the door. He placed the bouquet of roses carefully on the passenger’s seat. “I’ll be there. Ten minutes, I promise.”

Jade huffed out a breath. “Fine, but hurry up. They’re already flicking the lights.”

“Okay. Bye.” He clicked the end button as Jade said, “Wait, Haz—“

He threw his phone in the center console and sped off into the night. As promised, he arrived at the school ten minutes late. He parked unreasonably far as all the parking spaces were taken and jogged to the auditorium, rose petals falling and leaving a bed of roses behind. He opened the door to the auditorium and peeked inside. The seats were filled. He scanned his eyes until they landed on a tuft of dirty blonde hair and silver streaked hair. Niall and Jade.

“Hey guys,” he whispered, knees bumping against strangers as he made way to find his seat.

He sat down heavily and pulled the roses to his lap, silencing his phone. He glanced at the lit stage, whispering, “What did I miss?”

“Just the prologue,” Jade filled him in.

“Roses? Nice touch, Haz,” Niall complimented.

They bumped fists. Harry settled down in his seat and clasped his hands together. He got comfortable and watched students dressed in rags from the Renaissance period prance onstage. He admired the backset pieces painted beautifully to look like Northern Italy in Verona. He watched the play unfold.

An hour later, the play was going smoothly. Troye and Louis walked onstage, Troye dressed in a respectful white sheet of clothing while Louis was draped in a white robe, falling to his feet and adorned in a laurel of leaves. He looked stunning. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Ethereal.

Harry watched with admiration while they took on the roles of Benvolio and Romeo. While Troye was quiet and shy in real life, he was loud and unapologetic confident on stage, the lights hitting him at the right angle. He was magnificent. Louis on the other hand, was magnetic. He was made for the stage lights and the fame. Harry watched fascinated at the play while they spewed lines back and forth.

“Be ruled by me, forget to think of her,” Troye bellowed out.

“Oh, teach me how I should forget to think,” Louis spoke with elegance.

“By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties.”

“'Tis the way to call hers exquisite, in question more: These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows being black put us in mind they hide the fair; He that is strucken blind cannot forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost: Show me a mistress that is passing fair,” Louis said, voice echoing off the stage walls.

He looked out into the crowd of blurry faces until his eyes landed on Harry’s face. Louis breathed in shallowly. Harry felt like he was under a spell, caught breathless. Louis turned around and rose his chin, the perfect picture of a king.

“What doth her beauty serve, but as a note where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.”

“I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt,” Troye said resolutely.

He walked past Louis with his arms crossed behind his back. Louis pursed his lips and flared his nostrils, slipping out of character. Harry stared at him dumbly. Louis stuck out his foot at the last second, Troye’s foot stumbling and falling forwards. Harry stared in horror as he slipped and grabbed a set piece for balance. The set piece ripped and tittered sideways, bumping into the next set piece. All the back set pieces fell like a tumble of dominoes.

Troye’s mouth gaped open. Louis bowed with grace and smirked at the crowd, his eye glinting at Harry’s shocked face. He walked off stage with his head held high, leaving an open mouthed Troye and destroyed set pieces in his wake. Something about his departure was so beautiful yet so tragic.

_I break everything I touch, Harry._

After the much needed intermission, Harry, Zayn, Liam, Niall and Jade were standing around mindlessly. People around them were gossiping about the disastrous scene in hushed whispers. Harry felt bad for Troye. He must be feeling so embarrassed and distressed. The play meant everything to him. It’s all he’s ever been working for since the start of school.

“I was literally falling asleep before Louis pushed Troye. Good lad, that. It was a wicked, fucking scene!” Niall exclaimed, munching on buttered popcorn with greasy fingers.

“He didn’t push Troye, he tripped him! Can you believe the nerve of that guy? Just because he’s jealous does _not_ mean he’s allowed to be mean to Troye. And it was not part of the play, idiot,” Jade hissed, glaring at Niall.

“Guys,” Harry interrupted before Niall could protest with scrunched eyebrows. “Can we all just stop talking about this? I’m sure Troye is already torn up about this. Let’s just be a little respectful, okay? And for the record, Louis’ not jealous, he’s just a dick,” he added, looking sideways at Jade.

“You’re right. We can all agree that Louis’ a wanker,” she sighed.

“Troye’s upset. I don’t know what’s gotten into Louis tonight but he’s not a d-word or a w-word. He’s just stressed with finals, that’s all,” Liam said with kind eyes.

“Thank you Liam,” Harry breathed out.

“Isn’t Liam the best?” Zayn mumbled, drawing him closer and pressing his lips to Liam’s neck, who recoiled in response and moaned, “Zayn,” in a quiet breath.

Niall gagged on his popcorn who proceeded to eat the same gagged popcorn. Harry scrunched his nose. He rubbed his face and blew air out of his lips. “’M gonna go out for a walk alone,” he told the group, leaving clusters of people behind. He went outside and shook his body. 

He breathed out, warm air licking out like dragon’s smoke. He rubbed his hands on his face. He kicked a pebble or two, watching the small shiny stones skitter away. He looked up at the cloudless night sky. His problems probably looked so much smaller from up there. Unimportant.

He took a few, calming breaths and wasked back inside once his head was clear. The lights were flickering on and off for the second act of the play. Harry mustered up a breath and walked into the auditorium, praying that the rest of the play would go smoothly without a hitch. He settled on his seat and clasped his hands together. The thick red velvet curtains draped open.

God must have been listening to Harry’s prayers for once because the rest of the play acted out smoothly. No destroyed set pieces, no flustered actors on the floor, no menacing Romeo’s. In fact, Louis didn’t appear for the rest of the play. According to the hushed secretive whispers circling Harry, the drama teacher booted out Louis for misconduct behavior and replaced him with his alternative.

The blonde haired alternative wasn’t all that bad. Sure, he forgot a few of his lines and someone had to whisper them to him but he was alright. At least he didn’t try to sabotage the play. It seemed like Louis never stopped disappointing Harry.

Before long, Romeo killed himself and Juliet followed along, kissing his poison lips and stealing his happy dagger to slit across her pale skin. They fell to the floor simultaneously in ribbons of red. The curtains folded closed and the masses of people stood up and cheered, people in the front row throwing rose petals onto the stage.

Harry found himself standing along and clapping loudly. When the curtains unfolded again, the actors had assembled themselves into a single file, holding hands and bending over for a bow. He licked his fingers into his mouth and blew out a piercing whistle. Troye’s shining eyes stared gleaming at him, blowing him a dramatic kiss. Harry pretended to catch it and splayed his fingers across his chest.

The play was wonderful. _Troye_ was wonderful.

Afterwards, they met up with Troye backstage, people busying around picking up after themselves. Harry reached Troye and grazed his arm. Troye looked at him with wide eyes, then softened immediately upon realizing it was Harry. They embraced each other with tight arms.

“Hey Troye. Nice play. I definitely did not fall asleep there,” Niall lied with saliva crusted on his cheek.

Jade rolled her eyes. She embraced Troye in a hug and pulled away, kissing his cheek. “Good job, kiddo.”

Zayn and Liam patted his cheeks and ruffled his hair, congratulating him on a splendid performance.

“It wasn’t all that great,” Troye brushed them off with blushed cheeks. “I fell, remember? On my arse. In front of hundreds of people.”

“It wasn’t hundreds but alright,” Niall whispered to himself, Jade elbowing him in the ribs.

“You were great. Don’t worry about that. We hardly even remember it,” Harry said happily.

“Yeah. What fall? I don’t remember you falling hilariously to the floor,” Liam supplied innocently.

Jade pinched his skin, Liam yelping in return. Zayn stared amusedly at him.

“Thanks guys,” Troye said gratefully, his smiling face returning. “I still don’t know how that happened. I mean, maybe my foot caught on my silk sheets?”

“I know how that happened!” Niall unveiled, smirking. “It was L—“

“Yeah maybe it was the clothes,” Harry interrupted, scowling at Niall over his shoulder. He looked back at Troye with sparkling eyes. “Who ever thought that was a good idea?”

“Well, I did,” Troye said, his confused eyes darting across his features. “It was what people wore back then in the Renaissance time period.”

“Oh,” Harry said quietly.

Thankfully, Louis approached them with guilty eyes, his hands shoved inside his pockets. He was still wearing that stupid laurel of leaves that made him look beautiful. According to the rest of the group, they didn’t think Louis’ presence was warranted. They stared at him with judgmental eyes, Jade’s piercing eyes cutting through. Harry swallowed.

“Well, look who decided to show his face around here,” Jade practically snarled.

“Woah, cool it babe,” Niall whispered, holding her arm back. “Tommo, lad!” He cheered abruptly, clapping him on the back. Louis flinched. He looked like a fucking puppy that just got stepped on. “What you did there was magnificent, bro. Got me out of my slumber.”

Troye frowned confusedly. “I thought you said you didn’t fall asleep?”

Niall looked caught off guard. Harry rushed to Troye and shoved the bouquet of roses to his chest. “Here, I bought you roses,” he said, his smile quivering.

Troye was taken aback. He gathered the roses in his chest and smiled down at them, inhaling their sweet scent.

“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“You can say thanks for starters,” Harry cheekily said.

“Thanks.” Troye leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Harry stared at his pigeon toed feet and flushed under rapt gazes, all eyes looking at them. He felt flustered. It was the first time a boy had properly kissed him in public. It was new. It was exciting. “I love them. They’re beautiful. Just like you.”

“Aw. You guys,” Jade cooed, brushing her head against Niall’s shoulder. “Stop being so darn cute.”

“True that,” Niall agreed, winking at Harry.

“You bought him flowers?” Louis asked quietly.

Harry licked his lips and looked to him. Louis still had those same damn puppy eyes, begging for forgiveness. Harry resisted the urge to reach out and stroke his cheek. Kiss his temple and take him home away from hardening eyes. Even if he was with Louis, Louis would never permit that. He guessed he wasn’t worth showing off in public.

At the realization, Harry gained the courage to strengthen his voice and sound tough towards Louis.

“Yeah. I did. D’you have a problem with that?” he finished, narrowing his eyes.

“No. Not at all. It’s just…” Louis breathed air out of his dry lips. He looked torn. He scratched behind his ear, looking up at Harry with glistening eyes. Harry bit his lip. “Nothing. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“Consider it done,” Jade said sharply.

“Damn babe. Cool it down, will you?” Niall whispered harshly, his eyes clouding over.

“What? He was a total prick to Harry and Troye! Are you just going to defend his honor?” Jade said back just as harshly.

Niall pulled her away and rolled his eyes while she babbled in his ear. He brought his hands to his dirty blonde hair and ran through his hair several times, eyes pinched.

“Maybe! He’s my best mate, alright. Just leave it alone Jade.”

They bickered back and forth quietly in a corner of the room.

Harry ripped his gaze away from them and glazed over Louis’ lithe body. He looked so small, tucked into himself and hugging his arms around his chest. Harry reached out a hand before dropping it, feeling incredibly stupid. Louis’ eyes flickered over to him, questioning. Even Zayn glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

Harry flushed a deeper red and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Niall and Jade came back, Niall pulling Jade along by a tug on her elbow.

“What do you say?” Niall asked sternly like a father would.

Jade huffed out a dramatic breath, blowing her bangs away. She looked at Louis and crossed her arms against her chest, looking bored. She rolled her eyes and pursued her lips. Louis stared at her, frowning deeper the more she stayed silent.

Niall nudged her. “Fine,” she sighed, like it hurt her to say the next few words. “I’m sorry Lou. I was a bit out of hand.”

“Sorry for what, love?” Niall encouraged, pushing her forwards.

“Really?” She turned around and looked at him gaping. Niall nodded enthusiastically. Jade swiftly turned around and bit on her lower red lip. “I’m sorry for being rude. It was uncalled for.”

Louis stared between them with amused eyes. Even Harry had to drop his head low to hide his breathless laughter. Louis pursed his mouth, shaking his head. He walked the few steps towards them.

“Oh Niall, buddy,” he coaxed, his voice smooth like caramelized syrup. “How much I love you.”

He pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his dirty blonde hair like a dog. Jade squawked, stomping her foot and resembling like a nine-year-old.

“What about me? I’m the one who apologized! Niall was only bossy.”

Louis peeked at her with one open eye. He laughed and pulled her to their hug with his free arm, mussing up her perfectly styled hair.

"You’re right, love,” he said, muffled with Niall’s beach waves.

Harry stared at the spectacle with fond etched in his features. He felt a hand slide in his own, curling around his fingers. Troye squeezed his hand once.

“C’mon babe,” Troye coaxed, pulling him away. “I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”

Harry let himself get dragged away, looking away from Louis’ sharp gaze. Troye dragged him away into the night. It was painful every step he took away from Louis but it had to be done. He was with Troye now. There was no going back. Harry deserved so much more than what Louis was willing to give him. Like Jade said, he deserved happiness. Louis only made him sad nowadays.

The last thing he saw before he rounded the corner was Louis’ sad imploring eyes even when Jade’s and Niall’s smiles pressed to his face.

Harry drove them to Burger Brothers. He didn’t think about the last time he was here, pressed up against Louis’ side while he leaned in closer to learn and memorize the scent of his skin. He didn’t remember how their arms brushed and every skin contact send fibers of heat crawling up his chest. He didn’t recall how Louis’ voice was raspy yet gentle, quiet in the dim lights. He especially didn’t reminiscence how Louis looked at him softly like he _meant_ something. How he shushed the other boys and let Harry finish his sentences.

No. Harry didn’t think all those things. (He did.)

He brushed all lingering thoughts of Louis away, smiling at Troye and pulling out the chair for him. They sat in a booth near a windowed wall, the perfect view for staring out into the starry sky. It reminded Harry of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. So beautiful. Swirls of perfect midnight blue speckled with remote incandescent bodies of fire.

He crossed his arms on the table while he listened to Troye’s story. He thanked the waitress as she brought out their food and breathed warm laughter when Troye pulled out his phone and took pictures of his food before he dug in. Harry sucked red lips around the straw, slurping in the strawberry milkshake concoction.

He pressed a fist to his cheek and stared at Troye, his smiling mouth painted on dopily. Roped wrists and delicate crinkled eyes flickered alive in his memory. He blinked rapidly, sharp features dissolving away and morphing into blue eyes and pale skin. He felt bad for thinking it aloud, but Troye was no match for Louis’ beauty.

He looked out into the night sky, his mind a cotton candy machine of _Louis_.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one night because I love you guys.
> 
> Louis breaks.

* * *

After Harry devoured a delicious burger and strawberry milkshake, he kissed Troye goodbye on the cheek, heading home. He ignored Troye's persistent offers of joining him home, where he clearly said his parents weren't there. He couldn't ignore his roaming hands or suggestive tone, always rubbing his hand on his upper thigh and kissing him behind his ear, whispering to him how beautiful he was, how lucky he was.

Troye wanted to fuck him. Which was weird, considering he looked like a bottom what with his delicate features and dainty fingers. But he had a ravishing look in his eye like he wanted to devour Harry and he was honestly scared. So he politely declined and moved away from his lingering touches.

"Are you sure?" Troye asked for the third time that might, pursuing his lips in a silent kiss.

He went to kiss him on his pulse point, but Harry dodged him and avoided his puckered lips.

"I'm sure. Honest," he promised, moving away.

"Okay," Troye said sadly, watching him go.

Harry hurried to unlock the door. He opened the door and just as he was about to climb inside, Troye said, "Hey Harry." Harry turned to look at him, pressing his lips together.

"Yeah?" he called out.

"Thank you again for the roses. They were lovely. Just like you. Now I know for sure you like me," Troye said with shining, red lips.

Fuck. Abort mission, abort mission.

"No problem. It's my pleasure," Harry said swiftly before jamming the door shut and speeding away.

Harry arrived home half an hour later. He sighed a long suffering breath and pressed his forehead on the steering wheel. He accidentally knocked into the horn, the car beeping into the silent night.

"Fuck," Harry shot up, alarmed.

He rubbed his forehead and climbed out. He felt at ease once he was home. Tonight was too much. Louis, Troye, Jade. Too, too much. Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with a cup of tea. Because what has his life succumb to anyways? He used to be this quiet, shy nerd that nobody cared about and ever since Louis stumbled into his life, everyone had become so severely interested in him. It was utterly exhausting. And infuriating as well.

Harry whistled into the darkness and spun his, dad's, car keys around his index finger. It wasn't until the porch lights flickered back on that he noticed a figure looming on his porch step. He gasped, the keys falling to the floor, his hand clutched to his chest. The figure turned out to reveal Louis. As in Louis Tomlinson waiting on his porch step. For him.

"Christ, Louis, what are you doing here?" he asked, bending down to snatch up his keys.

Louis' eyes roamed around his body. His eyes narrowed, scrunching his nose in that infuriating way he did when he wasn't happy.

"Where you've been?" he asked, voice sharp.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and side stepped him, unlocking the front door of his house. Before he could haul open the door to the cozy indoors however, Louis stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He pulled him away harshly, Harry almost falling to the floor with his strength.

"What the hell man?" he asked, voice shrill.

"Answer the question," Louis said, his eyes hard.

"You're not my mum for god's sake."

"I should be! Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. He looked down at the watch wrapped around his wrist. A quarter to twelve. Fuck. He guessed he didn't realize the time when he was hanging out with Troye. But he had long stories and Harry enjoyed some story telling. It was one of his favorite pasttimes.

Louis snapped his fingers in front of his face like a dog, Harry looking at him with wide eyes.

"Huh? Do you?"

"It's almost midnight. I get it. It's just...I was with Troye and—"

"Oh," Louis rushed out in one quick breath. He nodded, his eyes cutting and so goddamn perfectly blue. "You finally did it, didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confusion written across his eyes.

"Or should I say, did him? You finally fucked Troye."

It was like Harry woke up for the first time that day. He sputtered out, "What? No! Are you high right now? I don't...I didn't fuck him. Jesus. We were at the burger joint you twat."

Louis' eyes momentarily softened at that. "Oh," he breathed, his breath soft and curling in the air. "I...I'm sorry. I just thought—"

"Well, you thought wrong. So can you just let me go inside now?" Harry said in a condescending tone, his eyebrow arched.

"Why him?" Louis finally said. His eyes sagged, looking so sad in the flickering light. "Out of everybody in the school...Why him?"

"Wha—" Harry looked at him with startled, unblinking eyes. He opened his mouth then closed it again. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Louis started, staring at him from under rows of long, black thick eyelashes. "Why him? Out of everyone in the whole entire school, why did you pick him? He's been trying to replace me as Romeo ever since school started. He's...he's not right Harry. He's not what you think he is. He's just pretending to be something that he's not. That's all he ever does. And then he sleeps with boys and breaks their hearts and ditches them to the curb."

"He won't break me," Harry breathed out.

There was a moment where all they did was stare at each other. There it was again. Harry was caught under Louis' spell. This time, he broke their gaze and burned a hole in the wooden floor. Not again.

"He's not like you. He doesn't hurt me and then just walk away."

"Let it be known that you were the one who walked away Harry. You walked away. And I tried to make you happy, you know I did. But you decided it wasn't good enough. You wanted so much more than what I could give you and you know that I can't be like you. I'm not like you Harry. I don't fall in love quickly in the few weeks that we were together. And the world does not revolve around my feet either. I'm not stupid or naïve like you. You know I can't and the sooner that you realize that, the better."

Harry's nostrils flamed in anger. Because how dare he? How dare Louis come to his house and demand to be heard when all he sputtered was bullshit? He was wrong. Harry didn't have the world revolve around him. He was a nobody before he ever met Louis. They both knew it.

"You're a prick. You think that it's something inside you that makes you incapable of love? You think you're special because all you ever do is fuck my mouth and leave?" he spewed out the words, angry, hurt, disappointed.

"It's not like that Harry and you know it," Louis said, his mouth tilting downwards.

"No. No, you're right," Harry breathed out harshly. He spat out, "We don't know what we want. We're too stupid and naïve to be this way. It's not like you're a fucking charity case. It's not like I was trying to fix you, I was just trying to—"

"Trying to what?" Louis interrupted.

"I was just trying to help you learn how to love."

Louis fell silent. Everything felt bigger, more momentous. Harry was sure the world stopped rotating on its axis. Louis' Adam's apple bopped with his swallow. He bit his lip harshly, a drop of blood pooling on his lips. Louis was Romeo after all. Poison lips and all.

"You're right. Yeah, okay. You do that. Go fuck Troye and have a nice life, alright? I'll see you at school."

He turned around to leave and no, fuck no, he wasn't going to leave until he heard Harry for once in his goddamn life. He had a lot to say. Just give him some time.

He screamed, "You don't get it Louis! You're loved and adored by everyone in this fucking shithole and you don't even know it. God. You don't even know it! And it saddens me how you don't realize how much people love you." His face flushed red, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Like who?"

"Like me you idiot! Maybe I—"

"Don't." Louis shook his head viciously. His eyes prickled with tears. The first Harry's ever seen him come close to cry. Harry felt his own eyes swell up with bubbly tears. "Don't say it."

"What if I do? What would you do then?" Harry asked quietly.

"Whatever you do. Don't say it."

"Why not?"

Louis breathed in and out. He closed his eyes. The motion made a fat ugly tear roll down his cheek. It was fucking breathtaking, how he still looked so beautiful in the moonlight with cracked, rosy cheeks. Harry knew what Louis was going to say before he said it, but it didn't mean it hurt any less.

"Because then I won't be able to say it back."

Harry looked up at him with watery eyes. He whispered, "I think I'm falling in love with..."

But Harry never got to finish his sentence. He didn't seem to care because suddenly Louis was there up close, grabbing his face in both hands and pressing his lips to his, so hungry and achingly wet. Harry moaned automatically, his mouth falling open. Louis licked into him eagerly. Harry savored every touch, every taste, every feeling spreading into his chest.

They were moving before Harry knew it. Somehow, someway, they walked upstairs without breaking their kiss. Louis' hands were everywhere. Harry couldn't keep track. They were on his face, thumbs running along his thin skin and they were on his waist, digging on his hipbones, and they were curled around his hair, pulling his head back to bite at his neck. Harry was swallowed up with pleasure that thrummed inside his veins. It made his pulse beat faster, the blood rushing to his groin.

Harry was weak. Any other sane person would push Louis off because he had done nothing but treat him badly time and time again. But he was weak. He felt beautiful under Louis' sharp gaze, quiet breaths, prodding fingertips. For once in his whole entire life, he felt loved, taken care of. He was not about to stop him when this is what he's been dreaming of since they first kissed.

Louis pushed him backwards, backwards, backwards until Harry fell on a heap of blankets and pillows. Louis closed the door shut and pushed his body on his, his weight a constant reassurance of I'm here, I'm here, I'm never leaving again. Harry moaned loudly as Louis rutted his hips against his. All he felt was pleasure.

"Louis, Louis, Louis," he chanted.

"Yeah baby?" Louis said from far away. Harry bit his lip and threw his head back on the pillows. "What do you want?"

"Your fingers," Harry whimpered.

He gripped the headboard as Louis' fingers trailed down his happy trail. His fingers worked quickly over the button of his trousers, tugging them down.

"Take your shirt off," Louis ordered.

He busied himself by pulling his shirt over his head, leaving himself in only his pants. Harry hurried to take off his button up but it caught around his hair. He huffed out, a low whine coming from his throat.

"Come here, you," Louis said softly. He helped him with his tangled shirt and threw it to the floor. "Pesky little thing," he teased.

Harry would've laughed in any other circumstance (Louis was the funniest person in the world) but instead he arched his back and hummed. He felt the press of Louis' fingertips wrap around his throat, applying light pressure. Louis licked a fat, broad stripe starting from his neck to behind his ear.

Louis cupped his face with both hands again and groaned against his quivering mouth. He wrapped his legs around Harry's waist, anchoring him when Harry felt like he was sinking. Harry breathed out a soft breath, air tickling Louis' cheek. Louis pried open his mouth and licked inside, their tongues sliding together. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days and so he sported some stubble. Every time he angled his face, he would burn Harry's smooth face with his stubble, painting him red.

Louis' slightly calloused hands roamed around the curves of his body, touching every bit of skin he could find. He held Harry against him and breathed him in, never stopping kissing him. Harry was glad for the breather. He might die if he didn't taste the tangy taste off Louis' slick tongue. Louis smoothed his palms up Harry's nipples, thumbing to the smaller almost invisible pink points. Harry recoiled and shivered. His panting lips puffed warm air over Louis' sleepy, blissful face.

Louis continued to ground against him and moan into his mouth. It sent shots of fierce arousal wrack through Harry's body, emitting weak, muffled groans from his aching mouth. Louis was a biter. He bit Harry's lips until they were almost bleeding, licking and biting along the expanse of his neck. Harry loved every minute of it.

Louis pulled away with wet, bitten lips. He cradled Harry's jawline carefully, peering into his eyes. "So fucking gorgeous," he breathed out. His eyes darted across his face.

He thumbed spit off Harry's deep rose lips. Louis attacked his mouth with his lips, Harry moaning his relief and arching his hips up. With every ground, Harry was left speechless, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He could feel Louis' hard cock press into his thigh.

Their lips molded together perfectly to suck harder, more intent kisses. His fingernails dragged down Louis' back, painting angry red marks down his sweaty skin. Louis groaned into the kiss and ground against him, warm puffs of air smoothing over his lips.

Harry's legs were quivering, butterflying around his back. He gasped, "Louis," with trembling lips, Louis swallowing down his moans. Louis' lips quirked against his lips. He breathed hotly against him. He tugged his head back and ribbed his teeth along his pulse point. Harry shivered frantically, arching his hips up.

Louis whispered, "Fuck me. You're so fucking hot," as his quiet words exploded heat over his body, leaving him breathless.

He gyrated his hips against his faster, their kisses growing frantic. A swell of pleasure built up inside Harry's lower half of his body, threatening to boil over.

Louis tongued him. He pushed his fingers up under his arms and wiggled his fingers on his skin. Harry wasn't one for laughing during sex, but he couldn't help the bubbles of laughter escaping his mouth. Louis' fingertips prodded faster.

"What are you doing?" he squeaked, his voice high and strained.

"I like when you laugh," Louis pointed out, leveling him with a fond stare.

Harry stared at him quietly. Louis leaned in and moved to kiss him again, his lips tenderly sucking his own. Before, their kisses were frantic and rushed but now they were slow and firm. Louis kissed him again and again, their mouths melding into one same, neutral flavor.

He pulled away with a wet pop, his eyes flickering afire with heat. He looped his thumbs on the waistband of Harry's black boxers and pulled them off. He gasped softly, his fingers sliding on warm, smooth skin.

"Harry..." Louis whispered. He trailed fingertips down his inner thighs. He nuzzled his face in between his thighs. Harry shivered, looking down where Louis' face was dangerously close to his groin. Louis gripped his length and kissed the tip of his cock. "I forget how beautiful you are sometimes."

Harry whimpered and arched his back even further, Louis leaving a trail of wet kisses on his thighs in his wake. He sank his teeth on the thick muscle of Harry's thigh. Harry carded his fingers through his hair, guiding his mouth to his swollen cock. Louis sucked perfect lips around his head, slurping noisily. He gasped aloud when he pulled away, thumbing the salty slit. Harry groaned and spread his legs on the mattress.

"Ugh, Louis," Harry moaned, his eyes squeezing shut. "You're so good with your mouth. God. Louis, I—fuck, Jesus Christ—" His legs shuddered and closed around Louis' head as Louis tongued his length. Louis chuckled with his cock in his mouth, sending vibrations crawling on his sensitive skin. "Louis..."

Louis drawled out, "Yeah," and lathed his tongue on the underside of his cock.

He kissed the tip of his leaking cock one last time and sat up, hands smoothing up the curves of his body. Harry whimpered and clutched the headboard, pressing his fingertips to his wet mouth.

Louis' voice cracked when he opened his mouth to say, "Baby. You're so fucking..."

Harry peered down at him, his mouth drawing open on a breath.

"What?" he questioned, voice shaky.

"You're so riled up. So responsive. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"You don't want me?" Harry asked, slow and heavy. He drew his knees to himself and tucked them under his chin. His voice was insecure when he said, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"Baby, baby, of course I want you. Wanted you since the moment I laid my eyes on you." Louis grabbed the tops of his thighs and pulled them to himself, pressing sweet kisses on his skin. "I want to do this."

"But you're okay with this? With me?" Harry asked shyly, color rising to his cheeks.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you're kind of my first."

Louis sucked in a sharp breath. "What do you mean your first?" he questioned, his voice quivering. Harry's face flushed, his eyelashes fluttering. He opened them to reveal wet eyes. "You're my first as in..."

"Shh." Louis brushed his thumb on his lips, quieting him. "We'll take it slow, okay?"

"Okay." Harry nodded, feeling relieved.

Louis pulled open his legs again. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and licked a stripe up his cock. Harry moaned, mouth falling open. Louis sucked around his head and kissed the tip of his cock. He cradled his face with his right hand and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Just relax, amor."

"Amor?" Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Spanish?"

Louis hummed his assent. "I've been doing my homework," he whispered, licking his skin. Harry guffawed. Louis looked up at him with sparkling eyes. He smirked softly and grabbed his hands, intertwining their fingers together and pinning them above Harry's head.

His fingers danced on the center of Harry's chest like the pitter patter of rain. He kissed between his pecs, smiling around smooth warm skin. Harry laughed breathily, eyes racing back and forth on the ceiling while Louis brushed his lips on his chest.

"You're so beautiful," Louis praised him.

Harry huffed out a breath, almost as if he was disbelieving. Louis' left side of his mouth curved upwards. He kissed a trail down to his belly button, nosing along his tender skin. Gentle fingertips smoothed up and down his legs.

"No really, you are," Louis said, his voice serious. He kissed Harry's hipbone, warm and smooth. "So, so ridiculously beautiful."

He rubbed his hands down his back, cupping his arse and lifting him up in the air. Harry's legs hugged around his waist. Louis pressed kisses on his flushed cheeks, tucking a stray curl over his ear. He pressed more on his forehead, his chin, the tip of his nose, on his closed shimmering eyelids.

Heat tingled with every press of his lips. Louis swayed his head side to side, sucking a new kiss to his deep blushed lips. Harry cupped his face and sucked on his soft tongue. He pressed the side of his face to the cool pillow on his warm face, Louis' lips guiding on his neck.

Louis pecked his lips one last time. He smiled down at him and raised an eyebrow. Harry smiled up at him, laugh lines set deep around his mouth.

"What?" he breathed.

"Do you have protection?"

"Drawer to your right."

Louis widened his eyes. "Wow. You actually do. I thought we were going to snog all night. Which I'm totally fine with actually." He bit the corner of his mouth, Harry snuffling out a laugh.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, sucking Louis' lower lip into his mouth.

Louis pulled away and kissed the tip of Harry's nose, who scrunched his face in return.

"Didn't peg you to keep condoms laying around. Besides, you said I was your first so either you're lying or something's not adding up here."

Harry laughed quietly. "My dad," he explained. "The first day I came out to him he came into my room and gave me a box of condoms. He said he needed time to adjust to this news that his only son was gay but that he wanted me to be safe 'cause of contracted STD's and all that."

Louis' calm face peered at him. "Besides the condom part, that's actually very sweet."

"I know," Harry said with smiling lips. He bucked his hips up, Louis' pursed mouth falling open. "Can we just get on with it? And please, let's not talk about my dad while we do this."

Louis chuckled breathlessly. He nodded and kissed him deeply. He leaned over Harry's body and rummaged through the contents of the bedside drawer to pull out a condom and lube. All the while, Harry smoothed warm palms up and down the sides of his body. He peeked over Louis' toned back to admire the swell of his arse. Louis faced him again with a condom and lube in hand, catching Harry staring intently at his back.

"Sorry," he huffed out, his cheeks flushing.

"Never apologize for admiring my arse," Louis laughed.

Harry giggled while Louis popped open the lid and drizzled lube on his fingers, rubbing his hands to warm the sticky liquid. Harry spread his legs open for him, allowing Louis' slicked fingers to run down his cock to his arse.

"Just relax, yeah?"

"I'm trying."

Harry squirmed relentlessly. Louis moved his mouth against his as he pressed a finger inside to his knuckle. Harry gasped, fluttering his eyes shut. Louis continued to kiss him to distract him from the painful stretch. Once Louis licked inside, Harry eased into his touch, his body vibrating with pleasure. He sank into the mattress while Louis' finger worked deep inside him.

Louis cradled his face gently, his finger slipping even deeper. Harry angled his face as they kissed. Louis hummed in the kiss and slipped another finger in, pushing in deeper. Harry groaned and furrowed his eyebrows, his leg kicking out. Louis pressed a hand to his chest and steadied him.

"How are you baby?"

"I feel good," Harry sighed contently. "A feel a little woozy."

Louis panted hotly on his face. He fingered him open and pushed in a third finger while he felt Harry's body relax further more. Harry's face pinched, his whole body flinching. He was so unbearably tight around his fingers, too tight.

Louis brushed his lips on his cheekbone. "Shh. Relax baby, relax."

Harry moaned as Louis' fingers jabbed near his prostate. He arched his hips up and threw back his head. Pleasure spread across his body, Louis' fingers filling him up so good. He bit his lip, releasing it with a wet pop. Louis cupped his face and sucked his lip into his mouth, kissing him raw.

After a few moments of Louis slowly working his fingers inside, Harry pushed his hips down, meeting Louis' fingers. "'M ready," he sighed loudly. Louis kissed his temple and pulled his fingers out. Harry whimpered at the loss of contact.

He watched with hooded eyes as Louis ripped open the foil packet with sharp teeth. Like a fucking, beautiful pornstar. He unbuttoned his black skinny jeans and pushed them all the way off along with his boxers. He was beautiful. He rolled the condom down his hard length and pressed a hand beside Harry's head, angling his hips. He ran his hand up Harry's soft skin and pinched his nipple.

"Ah," Harry whined, rolling his hips.

Louis pressed his lips to Harry's red slick mouth. He didn't kiss him, just simply pressed his mouth to his. He pushed in agonizingly slow. Harry blanked out for a moment as the tip of his cock pressed inside. The stretch was almost unbearable. He arched his back and moaned true in the air. Louis kissed him along the side of his face, pushing all the way in until he bottomed out.

"Feels so good," Harry exhaled on a rapt breath, his fingers digging into Louis' broad shoulders. He squeezed once, Louis' head falling down. "Oh my god," he whimpered lowly, his eyes clenched. "Feels so, so good Lou."

The bed creaked with their simultaneous weight, the bedframe hitting the wall every time skin slapped against skin. The atmosphere was heavy with sex, filled with breathy moans and sucked kisses. Harry's hands ghosted over his sweaty torso, palms rubbing his pert nipples. Louis kissed over his mouth and pushed in deeper with every grunted thrust.

"Fuck," Louis cursed, squeezing his eyes shut.

Harry's hot mouth was inches away from his. Louis sought out his opportunity and sucked his lip, biting hard. Harry whimpered from his throat, Louis' pink tongue darting out to drag across his lower lip. Louis' hips stuttered, his rhythm off balance. He picked up his speed and slammed Harry up against the mattress.

"You're so fucking tight.”

Harry reached up and pecked Louis' lips. Louis got the hint and seared their lips together in a hot, bruising kiss. He sucked on his mouth noisily while his hand smoothed down to corkscrew around Harry's cock. Harry whined high in his throat, Louis tugging on his warm, slick skin.

"Ah, fuck yeah. That's it baby," Louis panted deliciously, his hand working frantically over his cock. Harry's moans rang loudly in the air. "Fucking do that shit baby. Yeah, just like that. So wet."

He licked his palm twice and gripped him again, squeezing around his cock. Harry grunted out a moan. Louis flicked his wrist just slightly so, a moan ripping out of Harry's throat. Beads of precome raced down his wet with spit cock.

Louis angled his hips and thrust up against Harry's body. Harry whimpered and pressed his face in the cool pillow. He felt too hot all over, beads of sweat racing down his body and cooling his burning skin. He looked up at Louis with heavy lidded eyes, tracking his expressions. Louis stared at him intently, thumbing the pink cushion of his lower lip.

"I think you should take charge, angel," he said through panted breaths.

"What?" Harry asked in confusion just as Louis flipped their bodies around.

He was resting on his back, pulling Harry on his lap. Harry sank deeper on his throbbing cock. He could practically feel Louis pulsing inside him. A guttural moan slipped past Louis' wet lips. He pressed his fingertips to Harry's waist and dug his thumbs in his love handles. Harry bounced up and down with finesse, his curls lightly jumping up and down.

Louis was beautiful. It was a simple fact. Harry stared at his lovely toned body. He was soft to the touch, his hardened nipples protruding outwards. He had muscly abs painted on his stomach but he wasn't overly masculine. His eyelashes fanned shadows over his sharp cheekbones, his eyes colored a tenerifie ocean. Harry was mesmerized by him.

Louis grabbed ahold of his cock and thumbed over his slick head, his fist clicking with every upstroke. High released whimpers emitted from Harry's mouth. Louis applied the right kind of pressure to his cock. Louis licked his lips and started wanking him faster.

"You're doing so good, love," Louis rasped, sliding one hand over Harry's arse.

He squeezed his meaty flesh using all five fingers and lowered his hand. He touched his own wet cock where it was nestled deeply inside Harry's arse.

"Oh god," he moaned, his eyes darkened with lust.

He scissored his fingers around his cock, his fingers bumping on Harry's arse bouncing up and down repeatedly.

Harry straightened his back and braced his hands on the tops of Louis' shoulders. He rode him properly, his hair like a wild fire. He slammed down on him, Louis' mouth falling open in delight. Harry leaned in and brushed their mouths together. It was uncoordinated as he was still bouncing on his cock but he smashed his lips against his, teeth clashing against teeth.

Harry started rolling his hips instead of actual bouncing. He pressed his face in the juncture between Louis' neck and shoulder, biting down harshly. Louis hissed, eyes slamming shut and pressing his face into the cool pillow. He repeated his actions until Louis' breaths stuttered. Louis leaned his head back and moaned sharply, his lips glistening and red.

Harry lolled his head on his neck while he listened to the sounds of Louis' strained moans. On a particular roll of his hips, he squeezed his eyes tighter and panted long breaths.

He stuttered, "Oh, fuck! Hazza. I'm gonna fucking come!"

Harry allowed himself the satisfaction. He slowed down his hips, grinning and thumbing Louis' nipples. Louis shook his head on the pillow, his eyes pressed tight.

"Yeah? You're gonna come for me love? You're gonna come inside me?"

Louis groaned. He scratched down Harry's back and bit his lip. Harry resumed rolling his hips. Louis' mouth panted open, breathing heavily in the air. Instead of rolling his hips again, Harry lifted himself with burning legs and slammed back down, Louis' thick cock pressing in deeply. Louis cried out, his blunt nails digging into his back.

There was a blissful moment where Louis' mouth fell open. He didn't even cry out or moan or whimper, simply stayed quiet while his body clenched. He was so—fucking—beautiful. Harry felt Louis come buckets inside him, trickling down his clenching hole.

"You're so beautiful," Harry's voice echoed. "So, so beautiful. You're so gorgeous. Can't believe," he grunted out a moan, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. "Can't believe I have you. Oh my god. So, so lucky."

He babbled while he bounced up and down. Surprisingly, Louis stayed hard all the way even after he came down from his orgasmic high. Louis fluttered his eyes awake and stared at him deeply, thumbs rubbing his hipbones. He traced Harry's belly button with a stroking finger.

Louis blinked rapidly at him. Harry's slightly sweaty hair covered his eyes. Beads of sweat trailed down his neck.

"C'mere," Louis urged.

Harry complied easily. Louis mouthed all along his neck, licking his sweaty, salty skin. He bit on his pulse point causing Harry's mouth to fall open and moan.

Louis wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking him with these relentless and rapid tugs, twisting his wrist on every upstroke. A needy groan pulled from Harry's throat. He blinked down at him, feeling a familiar heat spread across his lower belly.

Louis sat up and leaned down, swallowing around Harry's cock. Harry's breath hitched. His cock slipped out of his hot mouth.

"You're so hard," Louis commentated, stroking his flushed skin again. He wrapped his lips around him and sucked hard around his head. He pulled completely off, his voice wrecked. His eyes flickered back to his face, smirking. "Wanna come on my face?"

Those mischievous blue eyes, that painted raspberry mouth. That's what did it for Harry. He sobbed loud and hard as streaks of come painted Louis' smiling face. His arse clenched around Louis' cock, making it painful. Harry panted and continued to ride him, crying out. Beads of water prickled his eyes.

Louis lifted his left hand and sucked sticky come from his fingertips, his pink darting out to lick in between the gaps of his fingers. At the lovely sight, Harry came again. He groaned and threw his head back, placing his hands on Louis' knees and arching his back wickedly.

Ribbons of come roped up to Louis' chest and nipples. Louis looked fascinated. He smeared come on his chest and splayed his fingers, strings of come connecting from finger to finger.

"Fuck," he breathed. He tugged Harry's cock loosely, the last of his come splattering on his chest. "You came so much."

"Fuck," Harry drawled, slowing down his bounces. He heaved a punctured breath of air and clenched one last time around Louis' half hard cock. He fell plaint to Louis' chest, pushing him down into the mattress. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he babbled, fluttering his eyes in time with his beating heart. He shuddered out a shaky breath as Louis' softening cock slipped out of him. "Oh my god," he exhaled, panting loudly. "Louis. Oh my god. Fuck."

Louis wiped Harry's come from his face with his arm. He draped his arms over Harry's sweaty sticky body. He kissed his temple, rubbing his hands up and down his broad back and arms. Harry went limp on Louis' chest, his face tucked in his neck. He sighed out in pleasure, his body cooling down with sweat.

"You were incredible," Louis whispered. He stroked his sweaty curls and tangled his fingers in his hair. "You did so good, baby boy. Made me come so hard." He scratched Harry's scalp with dancing fingers. "You fuck like a pornstar," he added quietly.

Harry's soft giggles produced into raspy laughter. Louis laughed along with him, his laughter deeper while Harry's bubbled high.

"Well you moan like one," he teased back.

"Hey," Louis said, his voice wobbly.

Their laughter intermingled in the air. Louis scratched down his neck, smoothing his hands over Harry's sweaty-slick muscled back. Harry gulped breaths of air as he tried to regain his even, calming breathing. He snuggled further into Louis' chest, listening to his rapid heart beating. He wondered if Louis was overthinking this as much as he was.

It doesn't mean anything, it doesn't mean anything, it doesn't mean anything.

Harry traced patterns on his chest. Louis slapped the wall until he flicked the lights shut. Their still bodies were enveloped in darkness. The moonlight seeped in through his cracked window, illuminating Louis' profile in midnight blue. He looked like an angel.

"Louis," Harry whispered, his voice tentative.

Louis hummed. "No," he rasped out. "No talking. Sleep now."

Harry said nothing. Instead he buried himself deeper in Louis' warmth and closed his eyes. He willed his heartbeat to slow down. He scrunched his eyebrows. He wanted so desperately to fall asleep but it came to no avail. His body was weak and limp but his mind was awake, whirring up thoughts.

Pretty soon, Louis' chest rose with deep breaths. "Louis," Harry whispered again, checking to see if he was awake. Louis didn't respond. He hugged Harry tighter to his chest, breathing out heavily. Harry's head fell to his chest, gnawing on his lower lip.

"I'm in love with you," he whispered to no one in particular, soft and too quiet in the open air.

Nobody answered. He nuzzled his face on Louis' chest and bit his lip harder. Tears stung at the corner of his eyes, rolling down to pool on Louis' collarbones. His throat was scratchy and raw.

"Sleep," he cried silently, more fat blobs of tears disappearing into the dark sheets of his bed. "Go to sleep."

He wondered when he ever got so far in. He wondered when and at what time he fell in love with Louis Tomlinson.

Harry cried himself to sleep, his breaths coming out of his stuffy nose harshly. He breathed Louis in, wrapping his arms around his body that much harder. He didn't want to let go. And maybe. Just maybe...

He's been in love with him since Year 4.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry remembers.
> 
> Harry and Louis find each other again.

* * *

Harry didn’t know what he was expecting in the morning. But it certainly wasn’t an empty bed.

He woke up sore and feeling weightless. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes awake. He blinked wearily into the harsh morning light. He fluttered his eyes closed and pulled the duvet off his body. He was so used to sleeping alone that he didn’t bother checking if a warm body was sleeping beside him. So he climbed into the shower and let the water rain down his body. Once he was done cleaning the grime and dried come off his body, he brushed his teeth, making sure he brushed all the way to his back molars.

Flickers of last night’s memories washed over him startlingly. Louis’ red, persistent mouth, his sharp blue eyes, his dancing fingertips. Harry stilled and pushed open the door, his fingers splaying on the wooden door. The bed was empty. No note, no nothing. At least Zayn had the decency to leave a note even if it was just a platonic cuddle. But Louis…They slept together and Louis didn’t even bother to rose him awake or leave a fucking note. He just left. _Poof!_ Just like that. Like it never happened. Like it was a dream.

_Louis’ lips pressed against his, mouthing along his neck. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He ran slightly calloused hands up and down the curves of his body, drinking him in. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He cradled his face gently in the heel of his hand, licking into his mouth and moaning, “Harry.” It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything._

_I break everything I touch, Harry._

Harry spit into the sink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stared at the empty space in his bed again. He just…couldn’t believe it. He dragged himself to bed with heavy footsteps. He climbed in and rolled to Louis’ side of the bed. He pressed his face to the pillow and breathed in his Louis-scented sheets that smelled like clean soap and home. Harry’s home.

Harry closed his eyes, preventing the tears to fall. An ugly feeling knotted in his throat, making it hard to breathe. He gasped out, “Louis,” and muffled his cries into the pillow, fat blobs of tear disappearing into the thin material. He breathed out heavy and slow.

“Louis,” he repeated again, softer this time.

He fell asleep with Louis’ name on his tongue.

A few hours later, Harry startled awake. Spit drooled on his cheek and on the pillow. “Fucking gross,” he muttered, wiping his mouth and crawling out of bed. He slipped some clothes on and glanced at the clock. It read eleven o’clock. Harry’s eyes bulged comically out of his head. Except it wasn’t funny, because he was so fucking late.

Harry fell to the floor. He scrambled upright and jogged down the carpeted steps to the kitchen. “Mum.” Socked feet slipped on the floor, almost tumbling to the ground. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I’m late for school.”

Anne peered at him over her thick framed black glasses. She pushed them up over thick, black hair, arching her eyebrow. “Oh honey, you were warm and your cheeks were flushed. You seemed ill. I thought you needed to rest.”

Harry carded his fingers through his damp curls. He inwardly groaned. “I’m not ill. It’s from…” he trailed off, catching himself. He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “You know what? I feel better now.”

“You do? Oh that’s good honey.”

Harry grabbed his jacket and shoved his arms in the armholes. He slung his backpack over his back, not bothering to tame his frizzy curls. He slipped his socked feet in his Chelsea boots while hopping on one foot, grasping the wall to balance himself. He ran his hand through his hair one more time.

“I’m gonna go to school. See you later!”

“Wait. Aren’t you going to eat breakfast? It’s the most important meal of the day,” Anne said worriedly.

Harry grabbed a banana from the centerpiece and peeled it, shoving it into his mouth. He mumbled, “Don’t be such a mum. A banana’s fine,” with his mouth full. “Alright, bye!” He ran outdoors, the door slamming shut behind him.

“I don’t even know what that means,” she said to herself, perplexed.

By the time Harry got to school, it was nearing lunchtime. He secured his bike to the bike rack in the courtyard and locked it in. He jogged the steps of the school and smoothed the frizzy wisps of hair over his ears. He bumped against bony shoulders and sharp elbows until he reached their table amidst the chaotic mess.

“Hey guys,” he breathed out, walking over.

“Styles!” Niall bellowed out, his sunny face cheery. His nose scrunched as he questioned, “Why are you walking funny?”

“And why are you still wearing your pajamas?” Zayn asked, looking him up and down, his judgmental eyebrow arching.

Harry looked down and yep, he was still wearing his white t shirt and soft cotton gray sweatpants tucked into his boots. At least he wasn’t stark naked or wearing his Superman bottoms.

“Where were you?” Jade chimed in to the line of questions. “Troye was looking for you. He just left a few minutes ago.”

“Guys, guys,” Harry interrupted. He sat down and offered his hands, palms raised up. “I just got here. Can we slow down with the questions?”

“Harry’s right,” Liam agreed, all bright eyes and red lips. “Let’s talk about something fun, shall we? How about schoolwork?”

They all groaned in unison. Liam’s eyebrow rose in question. Liam was a star student and the Editor-in-Chief of their school’s newspaper. He was brilliant in Maths and he was studying to be a lawyer, though Harry couldn’t understand why, Liam was so non-confrontational and friendly. It was surprising Zayn even liked him in the first place considering he was a bad boy stereotype. But Harry guessed they balanced each other out like yin and yang.

“What? Excuse me if I want to review over Dr. Cho’s History exam.”

“We have a History exam?” Harry asked in horror. At Liam’s tentative nod of his head, Harry groaned and rubbed his flushed face with his hands. He peeked at him through the gaps of his fingers. “I totally forgot.”

“Forgot what?” A raspy voice asked.

Harry’s fingers fell from his face. As beautiful as ever, Louis approached their table with a lunch tray in his hands. His hair was artfully swept up into a quiff, his longer fringe brushed sideways across his eye. He wore a white The Stone Roses t shirt that looped low to reveal his sharp collarbones. The same collarbones that Harry came on last night. Fuck.

At seeing that it was Harry who said the previous statement, Louis’ eyes skirted away. Oh. So they were gonna play _that_ game. Harry could definitely play along. He watched quietly as Louis sat down and busied himself stuffing his mouth with bland lunch food.

Thankfully, their table dissolved into easy laughter and bubbly conversation. Jade and Niall snuggled in together while Liam traced Zayn’s art inked into his skin. The only people left to talk were Louis and Harry. Of course.

“How’d you sleep last night?” Louis asked quietly, too low for anybody else to hear.

Harry ignored him. “Um Niall. What did you do last night?”

Niall looped an arm around Jade’s shoulder. Louis dropped his fork and poked his tongue inside his cheek, staring at Harry with narrowed eyes. Niall shrugged.

“You know mate, the usual. Played some FIFA and ate some chips. Hey, did you know that they started making them into guacamole flavor? Tastes like fucking heaven.”

Louis cleared his throat. “So _Harry_ ,” he said loudly, placing emphasis on his name. “How was your morning?”

Harry continued to ignore him. He wrinkled his nose, opening his mouth to say, “Oh wow. I didn’t know that Niall. Might try it out sometime. Tonight? At your house?”

“Um,” Niall said nervously, eyes darting back and forth between Harry and Louis. “Harry…Louis just asked you a question.”

“Yes, Harry.” Louis’ voice was sharp, his scrutinized eyes blinking wearily at him. He clasped his hands and tucked them under his chin. “Why won’t you answer my question?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Niall.” Harry feigned a happy voice.

“This is weird,” Liam whispered.

“Really weird,” Zayn added.

Louis stared at him with cold eyes. Harry huffed out a breath, unrelenting. Seeing that he wasn’t going to talk to him anytime soon, Louis went back to eating his lunch food, stabbing his macaroni and cheese with sharp prongs.

“You know what?” Harry started, his voice skittish. “I’m gonna go find Troye.”

At that, Louis’ eyes snapped up to his face. Harry avoided his gaze and picked up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He could still feel Louis’ eyes burning at the back of his head. He ribbed his flesh between his teeth, the loud sounds of their friends chattering away fading into the distance.

“I’ll come with you,” Louis suddenly said, standing up quickly.

Harry turned around to look at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding,” he said, tone flat.

"Nope,” Louis popped his lips, shoving his tray of lunch food away and slinging his backpack on as well. “Let’s go.”

Niall looked at his abandoned plate of food and back to Louis, who was heading towards Harry with a determined fire lit in his eyes.

“Louis can I—?”

“Yeah,” Louis cut him off, pulling Harry’s body away and walking him out.

Harry’s confused eyes darted over Niall happily digging into Louis’ macaroni and cheese before he was turned around.

“I’m not talking to you,” Harry huffed, pulling his arm away to cross against his chest.

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t feel like talking,” Louis replied casually.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed more.

They walked in silence, checking the auditorium then the gym then lastly, the library. Harry’s eyes settled upon Troye’s head buried in a book.

“Ah there he is,” Louis said pleased.

Harry turned to look at him, pursuing his lips and looking him up and down. Something about him was…off.

“Run along.”

Louis shooed him away before walking confidently to the librarian’s desk and knocking his fist on the counter. Lindsay looked at him with sparkling eyes and pulled her full attention to him.

Harry scoffed. He shook his head and approached Troye. He sat down next to him and tugged on his arm.

"Hey,” Troye said, smiling. He placed the book face down and kissed Harry on the lips. Harry looked at him with shiny, rounded lips. “Where were you? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Um,” Harry said, his voice faltering. His eyes flitted over to where Louis was leaning over the counter while Lindsay twirled an auburn lock of hair around her finger. He looked back at Troye who had picked up his book again. “I was still at home. Sleeping actually.”

“Hmm,” Troye hummed. “Sleeping? Why were you so tired?”

Last night’s memories flashed across his eyes again. Perfect, bitten lips, golden warm skin, panted, wet breaths.

_Louis’ lips pressed against his, mouthing along his neck. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He ran slightly calloused hands up and down the curves of his body, drinking him in. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He cradled his face gently in the heel of his hand, licking into his mouth and moaning, “Harry.” It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything._

_I break everything I touch, Harry._

Harry chewed the inside of his lip. He exhaled a long breath, his breath of air fluttering the pages of Troye’s book. Troye looked at him curiously, dog earing the page and closing it shut.

“Something wrong?” he asked, reaching over and holding Harry’s hand, thumb smoothing over tender skin.

“No,” Harry shakily said.

Harry wasn’t planning on telling Troye about last night up until now. But Troye was sweet and patient and he deserved the right to know. Harry would want to know if he was cheated on and not kept in the dark. Harry and Troye weren’t together, _per say_ , but they hung out and Troye would kiss him on the lips in a not so platonic way. Technically, he didn’t cheat since Troye never asked him out properly. As boyfriends.

“What’s wrong darling?” Troye asked tentatively.

Harry fluttered his eyes shut. He opened them anyway and squeezed Troye’s hand. Troye squeezed back harder. He took another calming breath and exhaled, his nerves coiling and wrapping tight. He could do this. Just, get on with it.

“Troye,” he started slowly, heavily. “I need to tell you something but I need you to promise me you’re not gonna get mad, okay?”

Troye’s eyes flickered. He squeezed Harry’s hand tighter, _too tight_. He swallowed.

“What is it?”

“Promise me you’re not gonna get mad first.”

“Harry, tell me.”

“ _Promise_ me.”

Troye blew his bangs out of his eyes. He nodded slowly.

“I promise,” he exhaled.

Harry wrung his hands nervously. He licked his lips and looked at the floor, squinting. “Yesterday after we hung out…After our date, I guess. Louis came by my house.” Troye nodded along to his words, growing more confused. “We were fighting and he was saying all these ridiculous things about you—I didn’t believe him, of course—and I said some things I can’t take back now but then he…he…He kissed me. We kissed.”

“What?” Troye’s voice went eerily quiet.

Harry didn’t dare to look up. He dug his blunt fingernails in his sweaty palms. He looked up at Troye with eyes darting across his face, taking in his slow to react expression. He raised his palms up facing skywards, his eyes guarded.

“And I swear I didn’t mean to! You know I would never try to purposely hurt you. But he got me so riled up and angry and I swear I wasn’t thinking! It just kind of happened.”

Troye’s voice was icy and controlled when he asked, “What _kind of_ happened?”

Harry blinked rapidly. He looked down at his hands and swallowed. “We had sex.”

There was three solid seconds where everything fell silent. Harry’s pulse was pounding in his ears. Suddenly, Troye rose up to his feet, his fists clenched at his sides. “What the fuck Harry?” Harry looked up at him startled. His chest breathed in and out heavily, his face flaming. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry’s eyes flickered in guilt.

He jerked his head. “No.”

“I can’t fucking believe you!”

Troye growled like a fucking animal and flipped the table over in rage. Harry shot straight up, moving away backwards. Troye stared at him with an uncontrollable fire in his eyes.

“Him? You fucked him but you didn’t fuck me? Are you fucking mental?”

Harry walked backwards until his wall hit the bookshelf. He felt like a cornered animal. Troye walked towards him with a menacing grimace.

Harry glanced at Louis. Louis’ eyes were assessing the situation, walking towards them in tentative steps. Harry parted open his mouth in panted breaths, pressed flush to the wall, trying desperately to communicate with Louis with his eyes. Louis’ mouth opened just as Troye pressed trembling hands to his neck, digging his thumbs on his pulse point jarringly. Harry clenched his eyes shut.

“Hey! Hands off the boy!”

Harry's eyes shot open. His view was blurred with tears, a blurry picture of a security guard pulling Troye away by his collar. Troye relented and fought him off but the security guard was much stronger, arms built up with muscle. He pushed him out the doors with a hand on his shoulder, the other gripping his wrists together.

Harry breathed in and out harshly. He turned his head to the left to look at Louis who looked helpless. Harry grabbed his backpack and hung his head low, jogging past Louis and prying eyes. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill. He wiped across his face with his arm, his jog turning into a full blown sprint.

He reached the pool room and closed the door behind him, letting his weight drag him down. He stared out into the clear, still water. Without a second thought, he pulled his shirt over his head along with his sweatpants, leaving him in only his black boxers. He toed off his Chelsea boots, placing them far away from the pool, protected under a chair. He ran and jumped into the air, gripping his arms around his legs in a cannonball form.

The water hit his burning skin, sending tremors of chills up his spine. Harry sank to the bottom. As soon as he touched the floor, he stroked his arms upwards, swimming up, up, up. He gasped a breath of air upon reaching the top. He did a few laps around the perimeter of the pool until his arms grew heavy. His lungs felt raspy and aching, as if he had been chain smoking for minutes. He swam to the middle and simply floated, closing his eyes and dipping the back of his head into the cool water.

A door opened then closed. “There you are.” The raspy high-pitched voice made him freeze.

He looked up to see that it was Louis. He watched as Louis shed pieces of clothing, revealing tan skin and downy hair. Louis ran to the edge and jumped, splashing water everywhere. Harry rubbed his eyes.

Louis rose to the top. He rubbed his eyes using his middle finger and thumb.

“Fuck. They put a lot of chlorine in this pool.”

“It’s to sanitize the water,” Harry said quietly.

Louis looked at him with red rimmed eyes. “How are you doing?”

Water clumped his eyelashes together, painting them oily black. Harry blinked at him.

“I really don’t wanna talk about that to be honest.”

He stroked his arms on the surface of the water, Louis doing the same.

“That’s okay.” Louis’ voice was so soft, so gentle, rid of any accusation or hurtful tone.

Harry felt like crying. “I feel like crying,” he admitted.

Louis swam closer and smoothed his palm up Harry’s arm, squeezing once.

He said, “That’s okay too,” softly.

Harry squeezed his eyes tight, causing beads of water to roll down his cheeks. Louis gathered him in his arms and hugged him tighter. Harry rasped out, “He almost hurt me Lou,” while sobs wracked his entire body uncontrollably.

“S’okay. You’re here. You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Harry promised himself he would never show them how much they affected him. Yet, here he was, crying in front of Louis Tomlinson. He decided he didn't want to cry in front of anybody else unless it was him. 

Louis’ fingertips dug into his skin, blotches of white and red prickled where he squeezed harder. Harry nuzzled his face in Louis’ wet neck, breathing in his chlorine scented skin. Somehow, he still smelled faintly like clean soap and vanilla. He dug his arms around Louis’ small waist.

“Can you just hold me please? I need you to hold me.”

More tears slipped down his tears to plonk in the water. Louis never stopped hugging him and coaxing sweet nonsense in his ear. Harry didn’t want him to stop. He pressed his lips on Louis’ freckled shoulder, kissing him softly. Louis pressed his lips to the crown of Harry’s head, his smooth hands never faltering to rub on his back.

_Louis’ lips pressed against his, mouthing along his neck. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He ran slightly calloused hands up and down the curves of his body, drinking him in. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He cradled his face gently in the heel of his hand, licking into his mouth and moaning, “Harry.” It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything._

_I break everything I touch, Harry._

They stayed wrapped around each other after a while even when their skin turned prude.

. . .

Harry stared at his blotchy reflection in the water. He and Louis were sitting next to each other on the edge of the pool, their feet dangling in the water. They were close enough that their shoulders were touching.

“I think I’m just gonna head home now,” Harry sighed.

Louis looked at him with sagged, tired eyes. “You sure you don’t want me to come with?” Harry’s eyes traced over his delicate cheekbones, his reddish-brown hair on his chest, his delicious thick thighs.

_Louis’ lips pressed against his, mouthing along his neck. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He ran slightly calloused hands up and down the curves of his body, drinking him in. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He cradled his face gently in the heel of his hand, licking into his mouth and moaning, “Harry.” It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything._

_I break everything I touch, Harry._

“Nah. I’ll be alright.”

Louis nodded. Harry stood up and padded to where his clothes were folded on the chair. He slipped them on and toed on his Chelsea boots. He ran a hand through his slick hair.

“Thanks Lou. For everything.”

His lips quirked up in an attempt to smile but it came out all wrong. Louis looked behind himself, not quite looking at Harry, staring intently at the wet tiles instead.

“No problem.”

Harry nicked the door shut behind him. He unlocked his bicycle from the bike rack and threw a leg over the seat, bicycling home. He climbed off while the bicycle rammed into the garage, wheels still rolling. Harry walked inside and kicked off his boots, peeling damp socks from his wiggling toes.

Anne appeared around the hallway, carrying a can of soda and an empty red bowl. The smell of butter wafted in the air. She blinked at him, wet curls and all.

“Harry,” she drawled out, her tone surprised. “You’re home early.”

Harry pressed his lips together, his dimple deepening. He offered her his best fake smile. He shrugged as he walked past her.

“Yeah well, I started to feel ill again. You were right. I should have just stayed home and rested.”

Anne tsk’ed on the roof of her mouth. She rubbed his back, the warmth from her fingertips seeping in.

“Hope you feel better,” she called out as he walked upstairs.

Harry closed the door shut behind him. He turned the lights off and proceeded to rid of his sticky clothing. He pulled on a sweater over his cool skin and tugged on another fresh pair of sweatpants.

He dropped to his knees and scooted to his television, opening the cabinets underneath it. His fingertips bumped along the spines of his Disney movies collection. He mindlessly picked one and pushed the DVD in, pressing play.

He splayed on his unmade bed, bright colors of light flickering over his features. Baby Tarzan giggled in the screen, his smiling face producing high pitched bubbly laughter. Harry fluttered his eyes shut and smiled. His body started lulling with sleep, his chest exhaling out warm puffs of air.

Everything became pitch black.

Some hours later, Harry rose slowly from his deep slumber. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, blearily blinking into the darkness. The Tarzan DVD set up was playing on loop. Harry flicked the television off, quickly being blanketed into a sheet of dark solace. He looked out into the starless night sky. Quiet chatter lulled from downstairs, light seeping from underneath his door.

Harry’s eyebrows pinched. He climbed off the bed and padded downstairs, the voices growing louder with each step. He rounded the corner and froze.

The kitchen was lit up, their overly used kettle set to the side. The air smelled warm of tea and biscuits. In the center sat his mum and Louis, who was sipping on a cup of tea with delicate fingers. He looked soft in his dark blue jumper. Amsterdam was scribbled on the front in messy white letters.

“Louis. What are you doing here?”

Louis and Anne looked up from their respective cups of tea as one. Louis’ eyes raced back and forth across his toned chest, drinking him in. Harry flushed and zipped up his sweater, never straying his eyes away from Louis. Louis’ red lips quirked.

“Hazza,” he said softly. “I’ve just been having a chat with your mum.”

The skin beside Anne’s eyes crinkled. She placed her hand over Louis’ hand, her thumb soothing on pale, tender skin.

“And a lovely one at that. Louis’ such a wonderful person.”

Louis brushed her off, his pale sleep crusted eyes slowly blinking.

"Please. You’re the wonderful person for creating an equally wonderful son.”

His blue eyes sparkled at Harry.

“Great. You’re wooing my mum.”

Anne laughed delicately. She stood up and handwashed her empty cup of tea at the sink. Harry’s back faced Louis, pouring himself his own cup of tea. Anne nudged him with her hips. His eyes flickered over to her amused face.

“You should bring him around more often,” she whispered, a smirk playing on her lips. “He’s lovely.”

Harry breathed out. He turned around and rested his back against the sink, splaying his fingers on the smooth steel. Louis turned around to face him, his own cup of tea cradled in his hands. Harry blew the hot steam off the surface before sipping quietly. His eyes glazed over Louis’ calm, neutral face.

They seemed to be caught in a battle of poker face. Harry’s scrunched curious face versus Louis’ patient unmoving face. Harry broke first.

“I hope you were not sharing embarrassing stories about me.”

“Quite the contrary Harold.” Harry’s eyebrows raised at the new nickname. “We were talking about mine. Disregarding the fact that I was an adorable, chubby baby.”

Anne chuckled softly. Harry ignored her, humoring Louis.

“Adorable? What happened to that?”

Louis’ eyebrows quirked in surprise. “Harry!” Anne smacked him on the arm, brandishing a scowl. Harry moved away with a pout. Louis’ lips danced with unsung laughter.

“Well.” Harry slurped the rest of his tea, setting it down carefully in the sink. He looked at Louis with expectant eyes. “Seems like you’re all done here. You should probably get going then. It’s getting dark out there.”

He sounded like a petulant child but he didn’t care. He was suddenly angry from before. They had sex, _no_ , they made love, and Louis pretended like it, _they_ , never happened.

“Harry!”

“Don’t you have parents Louis?”

“Harry. Don’t be rude. I raised you better than that.” Anne wrung a towel in her hands, eyeing Harry from the corner of her eye. Her eyes lit up. She smiled coyly. “Why don’t you show Louis up to your room?”

Harry stared at her, his mouth popped open. “Mum,” he whined. “Aren’t you the one who always says I can’t have boys over?”

Louis’ smirk increased in size. Anne pursued her lips, winking at Louis when she thought Harry wasn’t looking. Harry never moved his face away from her. Anne waved them off, her eyes sparkling in mischief.

“Louis’ a lovely, innocent boy. Now run along before I kick you out of my kitchen.”

A lovely, innocent boy. Funny that. Louis must have thought the same thing because he dropped his head and huffed breathless laughter.

_Louis grabbed ahold of his cock and thumbed over his slick head, his fist clicking with every upstroke. High released whimpers emitted from Harry’s mouth. Louis applied the right kind of pressure to his cock. Louis licked his lips and started wanking him faster._

Unwillingly, Harry’s lips quirked. He smoothed a hand over his smiling mouth. His face was neutral when he removed his hand as if he never smiled.

Harry breathed a long-suffering sigh and walked upstairs, moaning all the way. Louis rolled his eyes, a smile still in place, and followed him to his room. He left the door open for Louis. Louis tiptoed inside, leaning against the doorframe and glancing around Harry’s room. Harry sat down at the edge of his bed, raising an eyebrow. He cocked his head to the left.

“Well?”

Louis’ amused eyes skirted to his.

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you gonna like…Tell me why you’re here or summat?”

“Summat,” Louis repeated, breathing out the word. He shook his head and looked down, a shy smile slowly working over his face. “That’s my word.” He looked back up, piercing cobalt colored eyes pinning Harry blue. “You said my word.”

Harry looked away. “I guess I did.”

The moment was filled with awkward, tense air.

“Harry,” Louis said at the same time Harry breathed out, “Louis.”

They looked at each other and looked away simultaneously, both breathing out puffs of breathy laughter. Louis teetered on the edge of his bed. Harry looked down at his hands tucked in between his thighs.

“I’m sorry about Troye,” Louis said startlingly true. Harry stiffened. “I know you liked him…and I gone and fucked it all up like I always do. I guess I was jealous. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else kissing you.”

Usually Louis’ voice was rapid with quick flicks of his tongue, never one for slowing down his words. But this time his voice was a deep drawl, taking all the time in the world.

“It felt right between us, you know? No one has ever made me feel like you do. It scares me. How you bring out these feelings out of me and I’m stuck here afraid that I might drown. But then I see you and you’re so happy and that scares me too, ‘cause what if I fuck it all up then too? What if I break you, Harry? What then? ‘Cause this, this…” He gestured at himself frantically, Harry searching for his eyes in the darkness. “This is all me. This is all I’ve got. And I’m afraid it’s not enough. I’m never enough.” His voice was thick with emotion, his words holding a deeper meaning.

Louis looked so fragile. Harry was afraid that if he might touch him he would break. Before Harry could open his mouth to protest, Louis barreled on. His voice gained momentum, his flying words a touch breathier, more profound.

“I never told you this but I was with this guy for some time. Three years to be exact.” Harry’s eyes widened. That was a long time to be with somebody, especially in secondary school. Louis palmed his thighs, staring at the same spot on the ugly, stained carpet. “He was closeted too, like me. It was easier. He went to all my games and we hung out in the same group of friends. It was amazing, really.”

Memories of grass stains and sweet kisses stolen under the bleachers flickered alive. Four friendly faces and Harry was long gone, pressed to a warm body, tasting tangy frosting on a slick tongue.

“But then everything went to hell. I wanted to come out, properly. My family all knew but I wanted to come out in school, with Jayme by my side. But he didn’t want to. He…He said he was gonna release naked pictures of me to the whole school if I ever dared to say he was gay. To say that he was with _me_.”

Louis shivered uncontrollably. Harry reached around to hug him but stopped halfway. _Couldn’t. Shouldn't. Wouldn't._ He was suddenly enraptured in anger at this Jayme person. If Louis was his, Harry would show him off to the whole world. Louis’ voice grew heavier, his body shaking with rapt breaths.

“Obviously I’d be an idiot to stay with him but that’s exactly what I did. I was so bloody in love with him it hurt to stay away from him.” Harry swallowed thickly. He clenched his hands tightly. “And one day, he….He fucking tells me he’s done with me. Said he was tired of me, bored, that I was just a twink for him to practice on. Oh god.”

Louis dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. The muscles on his back pinched. Harry bit his lip, watching with sad eyes at the broken boy before him.

“After I moved on from him I swore I would never fall in love again. I would never get attached again. For the sake of my heart.” Louis raised his head to look at Harry. His eyes were red rimmed and watery. Harry’s heart ached terribly. “Do you get it now Harry? Do you get why it can’t work between us?”

“I do. I just don’t _understand_ it,” Harry whispered, his voice cracking on the last word.

Louis chuckled bitterly to himself. He wiped at his eyes furiously, causing the thin skin under his eyes to flush bright pink. His body was hunched over, his forearms hanging off his knees. He stared at the floor.

“Of course you don’t,” he said in a self-deprecating tone.

“Hey.” Harry grabbed his wrists in one hand and moved his other to cup his face, forcing him to look at him. “Just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean I’m not here. Look at me. Lou, look at me.” Harry braced himself. Louis turned to look at him with narrowed eyes, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. My heart,” Harry grabbed his hand and pressed it to his chest where his heart was beating rapidly. “My heart is glued to yours. I’m not planning to detach from you anytime soon.”

Louis’ lips quirked faintly. Then it was gone in a flash. His sharp, crinkled eyes fluttered down to his lips then back up again to his eyes in a quick swipe. Harry wasn’t thinking anymore.

He cupped Louis’ face gently and leaned in, brushing his lips against Louis’. It was like Louis snapped awake. He opened his mouth and teased his tongue inside, licking at all his soft spots. Harry moaned loudly, letting himself be pushed up against the mattress. Louis straddled him, pressing their joined hands above Harry’s head and pinning them there.

_Louis’ lips pressed against his, mouthing along his neck. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He ran slightly calloused hands up and down the curves of his body, drinking him in. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He cradled his face gently in the heel of his hand, licking into his mouth and moaning, “Harry.” It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything._

_I break everything I touch, Harry._

Louis’ free hand moved down, squeezing his bicep and flicking his nipple. Harry arched his back. Pleasure bloomed outwards from the ring of circle. Louis’ hand trailed down and slid under his zipped sweater, fingertips scratching his ribs. Harry sighed as Louis continued to suck snog-heavy, growing kisses to his mouth. He bucked his hips up, his leg slipping in between Harry’s thighs.

Harry’s mouth fell open. Wet breaths painted Louis’ face as his lips sucked a trail of kisses to his pulse point. He ribbed the flesh between pointed teeth, sensitive skin dotted pink. When he was satisfied with his work, he moved his mouth to his neck and inhaled. Harry fidgeted under the solid weight of him. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, Louis’ sharp teeth working on new, dark bruises on his neck.

Louis moaned against his neck. His palm sought more of his hot skin, scratching down the sides of his body. Harry ground his hips against his. His cock was already tenting his sweatpants, wetting the light gray material a deep gray color.

“Fuck,” Louis said in a strangled, pinched voice.

He sat up and pulled off his jumper, pulling his shirt next over his head. He attacked Harry’s neck again except this time on the other side. Harry breathed out wiry laughter, morphing into panted breaths once Louis dug his teeth in. He thumbed Louis’ hipbones and used his body to pull him down to him, canting his hips up. The added pleasure threatened to crawl up and tickle his spine.

Harry’s eyes darted across the ceiling. Louis’ hands pushed under his sweater, palming over his nipples and adding pressure. Harry groaned and arched his back higher. Louis pressed their lips together, their tongues sliding and slipping together. His stubble seared a burn across Harry’s smooth face.

Harry’s body tensed up. Louis moaned into his mouth hungrily and tilted his head. Their lips sucked harder kisses, firmer and deeper. Their kisses grew frantic and heady, deep and warm. Louis’ teeth bit down on Harry’s bottom lip.

“Lou,” Harry moaned shakily into his mouth. “Louis,” he whined, puttering out soft breaths. “Louis, I—Lou,” he said a touch harder.

He went to suck on Louis’ bottom lip but all he tasted was air. He fluttered his eyes open, his chest heaving. Louis was sitting down on his lap, a smooth yet calculating expression on his face.

“What’s happened?”

Louis smoothed his palms on top of his sweater. He unzipped it and remained silent. He let his hands work over his chest, running up and down his sweaty-slick chest. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the center of Harry’s chest. Harry’s stomach ballooned in as Louis nosed down, lathing his tongue on his happy trail.

He murmured, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” on his warm skin.

Harry’s face flushed. His eyes skirted away, embarrassed. He shook his head and stared at Louis under rows of thick, dark eyelashes. He pressed his thumbs in Louis’ indentations and bucked his hips up, levelling him with a hooded stare.

“I want to.”

The movement caused Louis to fall forwards, squishing his face on Harry’s chest. Louis whimpered lowly, Harry continuing to grind his cock against his arse. Harry bit back a smirk. Louis shook his head and pulled himself away. He pinched Harry’s nipples, his mouth falling open on a hitched breath and stopped rolling his hips.

“No.” Louis narrowed his eyes. “I get the feeling you don’t want to. I’m okay with just cuddling.”

“No,” Harry cried out. He pushed Louis off his lap, Louis falling to the bed. His eyes were rounded and surprised. “No,” he repeated, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. He scrambled to reach Louis, fingertips fumbling over the tied strings of his sweatpants. “I can make you _feel_ good.”

“No, Harry.” Louis scooted farther away but undermined his own point by twisting his fingers with Harry’s. “We don’t have to. I _promise_ ,” he insisted. “Look at me. Baby, look at me.”

His eyes flicked up to Louis’. He was crying again before he knew it. Fat beads of tears rolled down his face, cracking his flushed, deep rosy cheeks. Louis cupped his face in his hands, eyes darting around his face. He thumbed the tears away, wide-eyed and conscious.

“What’s wrong?”

“We have to do this,” Harry sobbed, his throat closing. He hated when it did that. More tears. “Because this is the only way you’ll have me. This is how we work, Louis. And if I don’t do this again, I might lose you again. I don’t—“ His voice cracked. He looked down embarrassed, his face flaming red. His voice quivered. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me, I swear. I’m here. I’m here.”

Louis kissed his lips, salty and sweet. He pushed Harry to the bed and laid him down while he slapped the lights shut. Harry raised his knees to his chest, curling in on himself, tucking his chin on his folded knees. The bed dipped under Louis’ weight. Arms slipped around his waist, Louis’ front plastering to Harry’s back. Harry closed his eyes as he felt the slide of sheets wrap to his shoulders, cool against his burning skin.

Louis thumbed in between his pecs. He buried his nose in his hair and breathed him in. Harry swallowed hard. Louis tucked a stray curl around his ear and pressed his dry lips to his neck. Harry sank into the bed even though Louis was right there, holding him tight, keeping him from drowning.

“Won’t your mum be mad if I sleep over?”

“No,” Harry rasped. He hiccupped. His throat ached. “She’s practically in love with you already.”

Breathy laughter spilled onto his neck, ruffling his curls. Harry smiled infinitesimally. Louis’ arms curled tighter around his body. He kissed the top of his shoulder while Harry pushed his arse back on his groin. Harry’s body weighed down with a blanket of sleep. He dozed off murmuring Louis’ name.

_Louis’ lips pressed against his, mouthing along his neck. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He ran slightly calloused hands up and down the curves of his body, drinking him in. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He cradled his face gently in the heel of his hand, licking into his mouth and moaning, “Harry.” It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything._

_I break everything I touch, Harry._


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis stays.

* * *

Harry’s eyes moved behind closed eyelids. He shifted in bed and rolled his head to the right. His tongue darted out to lick at salty skin. He hummed, wrapping his arm around the shivering body. The warm body stopped trembling with shivers, sinking into the mattress. He nuzzled his face closer, hair tickling his face. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the morning light.

His face was pressed into Louis’ armpit. Harry wrinkled his nose and moved his head to rest on Louis’ chest. Louis snuffled in his sleep. His fingertips grazed down Harry’s arm, goosebumps crawling on his skin. Harry smiled with his eyes closed. He fell back into a deep slumber, hugging Louis' warm body closer.

When Harry woke up again, it was to the sound of rushing water. He blinked blearily and stretched his arms above his head. He pulled the duvet off his sticky body and padded to the bathroom. He scratched his navel with lazy fingers. He froze on the spot.

Louis climbed out of the shower, beads of water racing down his chest to pool in his belly button. His thick cock swayed heavily to the right. Harry never thought of cocks as particularly appealing, but all he could think about when he stared at Louis’ cock was _pretty_. Pretty wet head. Perfect amount of girth.

Louis noticed at him staring, an amused grin licking his lips. Harry looked up at the ceiling, swallowing thickly. Out of his peripherals, he made out Louis wrapping a fluffy towel around his waist. He grabbed the toothpaste and spread mint green on his index finger.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” Harry breathed out heavily.

Louis’ lips quirked. He mumbled around his finger, “Why not?”

“Dunno.” Harry picked his toothbrush and spread toothpaste on the bristles. He said, “Maybe ‘cause you left the first time around. Figured you’d do the same the second time,” before he shoved his toothbrush inside his mouth.

Louis stopped scrubbing his fingers across his front teeth. He spat in the sink, looking up to meet Harry’s eyes in the reflection. He smiled with foamy mint bubbling on his chin.

“Like I said before Curly, I’m here. You’re not getting rid of me easily this time around.”

A warmth pleasure fizzed in his stomach. It wasn’t because of Louis’ sweet words, no, far from that, they were simply morning fizzies, whatever that was. Harry spat in the sink. He wiped foam off his tingling lips with the back of his hand. He was acutely aware that Louis was tracking his every movement with sharp eyes.

“First Harold now Curly? What’s next, Snow White?”

Louis smiled with his finger in his mouth. He slowly rolled his shoulders forwards. He bared his teeth and leaned over the sink, Harry admiring his arse discreetly. Louis bounced on the balls of his feet, catching Harry’s gaze in the mirror. Harry snapped his eyes back to his reflection. Louis smirked.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out. Though you do look like Snow White, what with the pale skin and bouncy hair ‘n all. Where are your dwarfs, eh?” Louis pulled back the shower curtains, peeking inside. “Where are you keeping them hostage?”

Harry guffawed loudly. He clapped a hand over his mouth, silencing his breathy giggles. Louis stared at him with his mouth open, his eyes sleepy but bright. Harry removed his fingertips and replaced his hand with his toothbrush again.

“You’ll never find them.” The side of Harry’s foot touched Louis’. “They’re hidden in a secret place.”

Louis hummed around his finger. He popped his finger out of his mouth. A sly smile worked over his face, his eyes fluttering up and down Harry’s chest. At that, Harry covered his visible pink nipple. Louis snorted.

“I bet you didn’t even hide them.” He swirled a finger around Harry’s face, his amused lips quirking higher. “I bet you released them back into the magical forest. You have that whole hippie thing going on.”

Harry shook his head, snuffling a laugh out of his nose. Louis chuckled beside him, his shoulders vibrating, sending tingles of warm fuzz up Harry’s spine.

They continued to brush their teeth in silence, Harry brushing his teeth with his toothbrush and Louis with his finger.

More often than not, Harry would sometimes catch Louis staring at him, Louis huffing a breath and looking the other way. The rest of the times Louis would catch Harry’s intent eyes staring at him through the reflection, heat rising Harry’s face and darting his eyes away.

They finished brushing their teeth, a drop of mint smeared in the corner of Louis’ mouth. Harry stared at the spot. Louis scratched behind his head, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What?” he huffed.

Without overthinking it, Harry cradled his chin with the heel of his hand and leaned in. He sucked the corner of Louis’ mouth, tasting mint toothpaste on his tongue. He swiped his tongue over his skin one last time and pulled away, smacking his lips together. Louis looked down at the floor shyly. The mint toothpaste was sucked off.

They walked back into Harry’s bedroom, Louis pulling on his clothes from yesterday much to Harry’s disappointment. Harry dressed up in a velvety navy buttoned coat over a crisp white shirt, paired with his dark skinny jeans and regular Chelsea boots. He opted to change in the bathroom. Once he walked back inside his bedroom and closed the bathroom door behind him, Louis whistled lowly, scanning his eyes across his body. Harry’s face flushed in glee.

Louis came closer, his warm smell racing up Harry’s nostrils. The realization that Louis smelled like Harry's strawberry shampoo made his pulse race in ways that really shouldn't. He stiffened when Louis ran his thumb on his pulse point. Louis clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

“Bit of a mark there.”

“ _What_?”

Louis hummed in response. Harry ran to the mirror and observed his neck. Louis was being modest. His whole neck was marred with dark purple bruises, red splattered on his skin. He rubbed his skin, irritating it more.

“Don’t do that.” Louis smacked his hand away. “You’ll make it worse.”

“What do I do? My mum’s gonna absolutely murder me.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “C’mon Harry, be serious.”

“I’m being serious! You don’t know my mum Louis. She will literally chop me up in pieces and stuff my bits into a box and send it to Antarctica!”

Harry’s eyes widened. He looked at his reflection in the mirror again, assessing the damage.

"That’s…” Louis breathed out. He blew air out of his dry lips. “That’s graphic.”

“I know! I’ll just slap some makeup on. I think Gemma has some?”

Louis shrugged his shoulders. Harry huffed and ran across the hallway. He pushed the door open quietly, the door groaning in response. He tiptoed besides Gemma’s sleeping body and grabbed her makeup bag. He started rummaging inside for something to hide his bruises with. Gemma snored abruptly, Harry stilling. He looked over his shoulder at Gemma’s motionless body and began his search again.

“What are you doing?”

Harry froze. He turned around, hiding her makeup bag with his body. Gemma was beautiful. She truly was. Just not in the mornings. Her hair was a messy bird’s nest over pillow littered cheeks, her eyes half shut and blinking with crust. There was a bit of drool on her shoulder. Harry scratched behind his ear, feigning casualty.

“Nothing.”

Naturally, that’s when Louis walked inside and whispered, “Haz did you find the makeup to cover your hickeys with?”

The room fell silent. Gemma looked at Louis who looked at Harry who looked at Gemma back again. Gemma sighed loudly. She rolled her eyes and blinked the sleep away, extending out a hand.

“Hi. I’m Gemma.”

Louis shook her hand. “I’m Louis.”

Gemma blew her tangled bangs from her face. She said boredly, “I know who you are. Harry can’t stop babbling about you.”

Harry laughed nervously. He thumbed at Gemma, Louis’ surprised face morphing into utter shock. “My sister,” he laughed sharply, his voice high. “She’s full of jokes.” Louis nodded quietly, pressing his lips together in a confused smile.

“C’mon ugly. Let me see the damage.”

Harry huffed, “’M not ugly,” but obliged anyways. He grabbed her makeup bag and scooted the chair closer to her bed, sitting down. Gemma lifted up his chin with her fore finger, humming quietly. She pulled back and rested her hands on her hips. She peered under Harry’s chin again and pressed the tip of her finger to her chin, tapping away.

“Well?”

“Are you dating a bloody vampire?”

Louis laughed abruptly. He quieted down when Harry glared at him, Gemma’s eyes lighting up in humor. “Louis, sweets. Can you wet this sponge for me?” Louis grabbed the sponge from her, winking at her. “Absolutely!” He scurried away.

Harry stared at Gemma with his mouth open. “How did he listen to you easily? He won’t listen to me unless it’s in…” he drifted off.

“Unless it’s in what?” Gemma asked amusedly, narrowing her eyes but smiling nonetheless.

Harry’s face flushed red. He was doing a lot of that nowadays.

“Nothing.”

“Mum won’t be too happy to know you’re having sex at this age.”

“You’re the one to talk. You lost your virginity at your sweet sixteen.”

“That was one time!”

“It only takes once, sis.”

They bickered back and forth quietly. Louis ran back to the room, wet sponge in hand. Gemma and Harry snapped their mouths shut. Louis handed over the sponge happily. Gemma accepted it, thanking him.

“Thanks Louis.”

“No problem love.”

Harry shook his head. “Hold still,” Gemma said sternly. She cupped his face with pointy, red acrylic nails. She grabbed a colorful palette and started dabbing green on his flushed skin. He frowned.

“Aren’t you supposed to like…color match me or something? Not paint me green like an alien?”

Gemma arched an eyebrow distastefully.

“You wanna do this?”

“No, no. Go ahead.”

Louis snickered quietly. Harry lifted his chin, his eyes darting across the ceiling as he felt the cool sponge press against his irritated skin. Gemma switched to concealer and started smearing the runny liquid along the expanse of his neck. Louis stared at her with fascinated eyes.

“Wow. Can you teach me how to do makeup? Not like for me but…” Louis smiled shyly. Gemma smiled, squinting at him. “See, I have five younger sisters. They always beg me to do their makeup but I don’t think they’ll fancy walking around with clown makeup. I’m quite shit at it honestly. But you, you’re good. Really good.”

Gemma laughed cheerily for the first time during their encounter. Harry raised his eyebrows, still looking up at the ceiling. She grabbed Louis’ hand where he was seated on the edge of her bed.

“Of course. Drop by anytime. And there’s nothing wrong for boys to wear makeup. I encourage it. Besides, you’ll look quite pretty with mascara and a bit of bronzer to accentuate your cheekbones. Though…” She looked at him properly, squinted eyes darting across his face. Harry looked at Louis. He flushed under her gaze, fidgety. Louis never blushed for anyone. “You’re very pretty already.”

“Thanks,” he breathed.

Harry cleared his throat loudly. He didn’t fancy his sister flirting with his man, thank you very much. Gemma flicked his nose like she read his mind.

“I’m not gonna steal your boyfriend you tosser.”

“He’s not my…” Another flick. “Boyfriend,” he sighed. Gemma murmured, “Uh huh,” as she quickly painted his neck.

Harry looked at Louis again. He was staring at the floor and biting his lip, his whole demeanor changed. Something was wrong. Was it something he said?

“All done,” Gemma piped up after a few minutes.

She showed Harry with a mirror, smiling happily with her work. His eyes rounded. She did really well. The red irritated skin was nowhere in sight, replaced by perfectly blended makeup. It matched him correctly.

“Wow,” he breathed, admiring her work. “Thanks Gems.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She brushed him off with a wave and started placing her makeup back in her bag. She laid on her back and pulled the duvet over her head. “Leave please,” her voice came muffled through thick bedding. Harry chuckled softly. He poked her head through the duvet while she pawed him away. He joined Louis at the door.

“Looks good,” Louis whispered. Harry smiled at him.

They jogged down the steps to the kitchen. Anne was brewing tea as usual, flitting around the kitchen busily. Two crispy toasts popped from the toaster. Anne turned around, brushing a kiss to Harry’s temple and pinching Louis’ cheek. They sat down at the table, watching Anne gather plates and cups and cutlery. She served them jam and butter on toast along with two scalding cups of tea.

“Careful boys, it’s hot,” she warned.

They blew steam off their cups of tea. At that moment, Harry’s father Des entered the kitchen in a business class manner, hitching up his workbag over his shoulder. He kissed Anne on the cheek and paused, looking over at Louis curiously. Louis stared at him timidly over his rim.

“Harry,” he hissed, nudging his elbow. “Get me out of here. ’M not good with dads.”

Harry shushed him. “You’ll be fine _Lewis_.” Louis glared at him, then dissolved into a shaky smile once he noticed Harry’s very masculine dad was staring at him the whole while. Harry stood up, pulling Louis along with him.

“Dad this is my close friend Louis. Louis, my dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you sir,” Louis said sturdily. They clasped hands loudly. Des nodded. “Des Styles at your service.”

“Okay.” Anne clapped her hands. “Sit down boys or your teas will run cold.”

They obeyed immediately. Louis’ eyes darted around the room nervously, straying away from Des’ peering, beady eyes. Harry could feel the tension in the air envelop them in a blanket of awkwardness. Anne placed scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee in front of Des. Des ruffled a newspaper open, pretending to read while his eyes stared at Louis over the brim of the newspaper.

Anne joined them at the table. They sipped on their drinks quietly and pinched off crumbs of toast. Harry felt uncomfortable. He couldn’t imagine how Louis felt. He took a sip of his tea, a drop of liquid running on his chin and down his neck. He went to wipe it away but Anne reached over.

“Oh, boo. You spilled a bit of your tea.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He stuttered, “Wait, no, mum, please!”

Anne’s thumb smudged off the drop of tea. Harry’s eyes squeezed tight. When he didn’t hear the anticipated scold or gasp of shock, he opened his eyes. Anne sat back down, crinkling eyes smiling at him in return.

“There you go.”

Harry relaxed in his seat. He exhaled out a long breath he was holding in. He covered his neck, smiling squeamishly.

Anne looked at her thumb. “Aha!” She pointed a finger at him, narrowing her eyes. “I knew it!”

Harry stiffened in his seat. Louis looked at him with wide eyes and rounded lips. Anne scrutinized her gaze, darting her eyes between both boys. She opened her mouth in disbelief. Des stared at them, his newspaper long gone forgotten, his cup of coffee run cold.

“Are you using protection?”

That was enough. “Okay bye!” Harry announced quickly, tugging Louis along by his elbow. Louis stumbled after him. “We’re gonna talk about this when you come back young man!” Anne yelled after him.

Harry grabbed his shoes by the door and pushed Louis through the door, looking back. Anne had settled on her seat once again with arms crossed against her chest, Des pursuing his lips and doing the same.

Once they were out the door, Harry collapsed on the dewy grass. He closed his eyes, letting the sun soak his skin in warmth. A shadow loomed over him, Harry being able to tell even through closed eyelids. He fluttered his eyes open, Louis’ crinkled face staring down at him seriously.

“That was the single most frightening experience of my life. And I almost drowned once.”

Harry’s mouth fell open in bubbly giggles. His giggles produced into louder breaths of laughter, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching his stomach. Louis was lovely. He had great comedic timing and never failed to make him laugh. He also made him smile. And come. But most important of all, he made him happy.

“C’mon you big giant,” Louis coaxed. He gripped his hands and pulled him up to a standing position. “We’re gonna be late for school.”

Harry dabbed his eyes with the back of his hand. His eyes brightened up at the sight of Louis’ black Maserati. He skipped towards it, running his hand over the smooth, shiny surface. He reached the passenger’s side and waited for Louis to unlock it.

“You brought David Beckham!”

“You remembered his name,” Louis said through red, smiling lips.

The car beeped open. Harry slid inside, buckling himself in. He smiled at Louis as he climbed inside. Louis pushed the key into the ignition, David roaring into life. Harry spread himself on the seat and ran his hands on every surface of the car.

“Of course. How could I forget?”

Louis’ answering smile put the sun to shame.

. . .

Harry and Louis walked side by side, laughing together. It felt really good. Really easy too. Louis filled in the empty spaces of Harry’s life. His bright smile lit up all the darkness in the crevices of his heart. His dancing fingertips and whispered words pooled blood in his ribcage.

They decided to hang out at the empty auditorium. Louis thumbed a text to Zayn, Liam, Niall and Jade to meet up with them there during their free period. They embraced each other in hugs and greetings. They ordered pizza and sat down in the endless rows of red plush seats.

Harry’s smiling face laughed at Niall’s face which was smeared in pizza sauce. Louis’ rasped laughter echoed in the auditorium, flicking a pepperoni slice at Niall’s blonde head.

Niall suddenly burst into easy laughter. They stared at him with confused smiles, amused at his beet red face.

“Whasso funny?” Harry asked, biting into his pizza slice, a thick string of cheese dangling from his saucy lips.

“I still can’t believe Louis tripped Troye in front of the whole school.” He broke into uproarious cackles again, slapping Louis’ ankle. Louis kicked him in the side. Niall dabbed his shining eyes with his hand. “That was fucking brill mate,” he sighed happily.

Louis shook his head, pursuing his lips. Even though he feigned being mad, his eyes were sparkling.

“Well he deserved it.”

Harry looked down at his plate, smiling secretly. When he raised up his head, Louis was smiling softly at him. They stared at each other motionless, simply smiling.

Zayn sat down next to Louis, Liam following him like a lost endeared puppy. He wrapped an arm around him and pinched his cheek, Louis pawing him away with a scrunched nose. Harry smiled wider.

“Hey Lou, why don’t you reenact it for us? The stage is all yours.”

“Alright.” Louis perked up. He hopped up and ruffled Niall’s hair in passing. “I’ll set the lights really quick.”

Harry watched him go. He admired the swell of Louis’ arse running down to his toned, muscled legs. His eyes darted back up to glaze over the muscles fluttering on Louis’ back when he extended his arms above his head to stretch. His shirt rode up, revealing the dimples on his back. Harry sucked on his bottom lip.

Jade sat next to him. She pulled his legs over her lap where he was sitting down sideways. She ran a thumb over the sharp bone on his ankle.

“So, is there a reason why you’re so happy and giddy today?”

Harry turned to look at her. Jade wasn’t looking at him, she was staring at Niall as he opened his mouth wide while Liam threw pepperoni slices at his face, missing every time. Zayn laughed and helped him, throwing pepperoni slices of his own. Harry looked down, biting back a smile.

“Louis and I kind of made up?”

“Define kind of.”

Harry rolled his shoulders in a shrug.

“I dunno. Like…” He flicked his hand in the air. He ran the same hand through his messy curls, his movements jerky. “He told me the reason why he doesn’t do relationships. And I get it, I really do. It makes sense the way he is and all. And then we…We uh…” His eyebrows pinched together, his hands halting. “We kissed.”

Jade arched an eyebrow. She turned to look at him, taking in his rounded lips and scrutinized gaze.

“Is that so?”

Harry gulped. He looked down at his lap and clasped his hands. He then looked up into the ceiling, eyes darting around nervously. Jade had long since stopped rubbing his ankle. He blew air out of his lips and stared at her unblinkingly. Spit gathered in his mouth. He nodded.

Jade hummed.

"Let me recite you some of my lines from my favorite book, okay?"

Harry jerked his head yes.

"You're worth being committed to, and the problems he has are inner issues that he needs to solve himself. You are picking an unhealed wound, so be patient. Do not wait forever but do wait. Just remember that it's not your responsibility to fix a broken man; it's not worth your time, your effort, your love or your tears. If he's not willing to fix himself for you, there's nothing left to do but walk away and move beyond his selfish, immature behavior. Not all men are broken, but you have to believe you deserve better. You deserve love, Harry."

Jade's wise words weighed heavily in his chest. Harry licked his lips, nodding slowly. When he made no move to response, Jade said quietly, “You love him, don’t you?”

It was a simple statement spelled out into the thin air. And yet, it shook Harry numb to the core. He fell silent, his breathing spiraling out of control. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He ran his hand through his hair again and stopped midway, scrunching his fingers in his hair. He breathed shallowly, shakily, looking at Jade through afraid eyes. He said nothing.

“It’s okay if you do,” she finally said, quietly. “I know the feeling.”

It was then that Harry noticed she wasn’t looking at him anymore. She had turned her head to stare at Niall, who was red in the face and pushing Zayn’s prodding fingers away. Niall cackled louder and rolled onto his side, Zayn jumping on him and wiggling his fingers up to his arms. Liam smiled giddily and snapped picture after picture, standing up over them to get a better angle.

“I’m in love with Louis Tomlinson.”

Jade studied him, smiling fondly. Harry repeated it again, louder this time.

“I’m in love with Louis Tomlinson.”

Niall’s, Zayn’s and Liam’s eyes snapped up to his face. Harry nodded fervently, breathing out, “I am.” Niall sat up and smiled at him, Liam’s eyes crinkling in response. Zayn nodded curtly, the corners of his lips quirking up in a smile. Everything felt hazy and sluggish, the seconds ticking by agonizingly slow.

“We know man,” Zayn supplied, breaking the silence.

“Can you all just…keep a secret? I’m planning on telling him myself.”

Louis knew that Harry loved him but he didn't know that he was _in_ love with him. And that, that was something huge.

“Of course mate,” Liam said, his eyes crinkled in a smile. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Harry nodded his assent. At that moment, the stage lights flicked on, flooding the stage with bright light. He shielded his eyes from the light. All five heads turned to look at the stage. He lowered his arm, revealing a tiny figure standing on the stage. Louis.

“Yeah so like,” Louis started, his voice loud and confident. “I was here right, like center stage…” He walked to the middle of the stage, extending out his open arms. “And I was playing Romeo you see. And Troye was fucking Benvolio, the little shit.”

Harry exhaled breathless laughter. He looked at the rest of their faces, too enraptured into Louis’ story. He had them all entertained and focused on him like a sharp beam of sunlight.

“He was walking past me, the tosser, all confident and whatnot.” Louis stomped on the stage with his arms ridiculously propped up, mocking Troye. “And I’m like, “Let me give him a taste of his own medicine,” so I stuck my foot out at the last second, and this is the part where it gets really funny, he falls for it, _literally_ falls for it and the idiot grabs the set pieces.” He dashed to the end of the stage, holding onto air. “Everything fucking topples over and he falls too.” He fell to the floor dramatically, throwing ribbons of red into the air. “And everyone is laughing and clapping to my grandiose performance while Troye lays in his own destruction and stupidity. The end.”

All six friends clap, Harry’s a touch harder. Louis stood up and bowed, a ribbon of red tissue paper roped around his neck. He was beautiful.

“Thank you, thank you. Though I might have exaggerated a bit at the end there.”

They guffawed into easy laughter. Louis smiled through it all, rubbing his hands together and closing his eyes under the harsh spotlight. All the while Harry stared at him, watching how the lights highlighted his features and danced on his skin, painting him gold. Louis was the sunshine.

Jade resumed her slow rubs on Harry’s ankle. Harry turned to look at her, seeing Jade’s smile already in place. He smiled too, looking back to the stage where Louis was already looking at him, sending him a wink.

Harry’s cheeks hurt from all the smiling. But he didn’t care.

. . .

Harry and Louis went home together much to Harry’s surprise. Louis explained, “’Cause I wanna try your mum’s cooking Harold,” while Harry replied, “Don’t you have a family to go home to?” It earned him a whack on the head and a fond roll of the eyes. Harry liked to think it was fond. (It all may be in his head.)

They walked inside, the smell of garlic roasted chicken with rosemary and lemon hitting their nostrils all at once. Louis’ stomach growled in command. Harry chuckled and led him to the kitchen with a hand pressed to the small of his back. Louis let himself be pushed lightly, a smile lifting his lips. They arrived just in time as Anne pulled a golden chicken from the oven with mitten covered hands.

Anne turned to them, her eyebrows shooting up. Harry braced himself for the talk they were supposed to have once he had come back home. 

Surprisingly, she said, “Boys! What a lovely surprise. Sit down, sit down. Dinner’s just about ready," with a relaxed smile.

Thankfully, she had forgotten all about the morning's fiasco due to mothers' daily chores and all that. She accepted Louis into the kitchen warmly. Harry shot him a little smile, Louis dropping his head and biting his lips to contain his smirk. 

“Thank you Anne. Smells delicious.”

“Oh please, Lou.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised on their own accord. Lou? Since when did his mum advance to nickname basis with Louis? Anne set the chicken down, pulling off her mittens. She quirked her head to Harry as he sat down.

“You should eat some of Harry’s cooking. It’s delightful and he definitely didn’t inherit it from me.”

Louis looked at him with amazement etched across his features. He went to sit down, Harry scooting the chair closer to him. Louis cocked his head, the skin beside his bright eyes crinkling in a small smile.

“I didn’t know you cook.”

“You don’t know a lot of things about me Louis Tomlinson.”

“Okay _Harry Styles_ ,” Louis said smiling. “I would very much like to know everything about you.”

Harry hid his smile behind his napkin. Gemma and Des piled into the kitchen one by one. Des sat down at the head of the table, Gemma taking a seat besides Harry. She ruffled Harry’s hair messily and smirked at Louis, who winked in return.

All in all, it was all very lovely. The kitchen was filled with tinkling laughter and animated talking, Harry’s family listening to Louis’ endless stories earnestly. Gemma and Louis bantered back and forth, Anne scolding Gemma and Gemma merely rolling her eyes in response and explaining, “Chill mum. It’s just banter. We’re not actually fighting.” Louis had sputtered out his chicken and clamped his mouth, whispering, “You just told your mum to _chill_.” Gemma simply nodded and crossed her arms against her chest, saying smugly, “I did.” Even Des’ lips quirked faintly and Harry had known him to be a serious man in his whole life. Never one for enjoying small chit chat. Not to mention, Harry and Louis played footsie underneath the table throughout the whole night, Louis sending him smiles along the way. Harry considered it a bonus win.

Afterwards, they climbed to Harry’s bedroom with fuzzy smiles and full bellies. Harry fell to his bed face down, Louis closing the door quietly behind him. Harry started moving his arms and legs on the bed, pretending to make a bed angel and ruffling up the duvet. Louis sat down at the edge of the bed, Harry’s lanky body taking up most of the space.

“You’re so silly.” Fingertips prodded his ankle. “You’re full?”

“Mmm, yes,” Harry moaned. He squished his face in the pillow, straining his ears to hear Louis’ quiet breathing. He snuffled a groan in the pillowcase. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

Louis straddled Harry, Harry muffling another groan under his heavy weight. He rubbed his hands together and placed his hands on the tops of his shoulders. The warmth of his fingertips seeped through his clothes and into his skin. His thumbs started rolling outwards in a circling motion, pressing in deep. Louis moved his palms slower, pushing all his weight onto Harry’s back.

“What are you doing?” came Harry’s muffled voice. Another rolling of the thumbs. Harry’s mouth fell open, closing his eyes in pleasure. A low moan escaped parted lips. “Not that I want you to stop but what are you doing?”

“Massaging your abdomen can help relax the abdomen, which, in turn, can aid digestion. My mum was a masseuse on the weekends when hours were sparse at the hospital and we needed the money. Sometimes she would let me practice on her so she could know if it felt good or not. I learned a lot actually.”

Harry’s breath hitched. He tried to focus on Louis’ slow words but he was distracted by the heat from his palms. Louis slid his hands underneath his shirt and rubbed wide circles on his upper back. He squeezed flesh between his fingers and smoothed them out, repeating the action.

He furrowed his eyebrows, eyes moving behind closed eyelids.

“Your mum worked as a masseuse?”

Louis hummed. His fingertips pressed deeper, scratching down his back. Harry sighed contently, his back arching up a bit. Louis kneaded his hands and pushed up, applying the perfect amount of pressure in all the right spots. Harry exhaled.

“She’s a nurse. Pay was shit before. We struggled a lot in my childhood days but then she married my wealthy stepfather and we were well off after that.” Louis squeezed his skin, sending rivets of pleasure down Harry’s spine. He sighed contently. “Then came the babies. Lots of them. She didn’t need to work but she insisted she loved working with babies. Makes sense, ‘cause she had seven of us.”

Harry’s head lolled on his neck. He listened to Louis’ soft yet raspy tone, rich like melted chocolate. He hummed around the thumbs digging into his spine. Louis’ palms slid to the top and rubbed down to the bottom, applying more pressure on his hips.

“S’better if you take off your shirt. It’s getting in the way.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry breathed. “Lemme just…”

He pulled the shirt over his head while still laying down, Louis helping him. He threw it somewhere on the floor and laid back down, Louis’ fingers immediately on his skin again. He rubbed the jutted out bones of his spine with the heel of his hand. Harry let out a murmur of contentment.

He mumbled, “Do you like babies?” while almost dozing off, Louis’ hands a soothing presence on his wiry back.

“I do. I think it was a given growing up with lots of little babies all the time. I practically raised my siblings when my mum was working in the day.”

“Do you plan on having a family then?” Harry had to ask.

“I do. I think I want a large family with toys in the front yard and doodles on the wall. I saw this cool thing on a website the other day, Pinting or summat like that, where the parents nailed picture frames around their children’s doodles to make it look like pictures. It was neat.”

Harry moaned at that. But it wasn’t because of Louis’ rubbing fingers. Louis wanted a family? A big one? That doodled on walls and instead of getting mad, daddy Louis would frame them? That was calling for a recipe of Harry coming into his pants right then and there.

Louis huffed out a laugh. His fingers resumed their deep rubbing.

“Feels good, huh?”

“Pinterest.”

“Come again?”

“Pinterest is the website you saw.”

“Oh,” Louis rushed out in one quick breath. “Right.”

“Sorry,” Harry inhaled sharply. Louis’ fingers moved quickly over the lower part of his spine. “I do crafts a lot. Is that weird?”

“Not at all. Nothing wrong with that.”

Harry smiled into his arm. Louis continued massaging his thumbs into the thick muscles of Harry’s back. He pressed down and caressed the skin, using all ten fingers to dig down and then back up, repeating the process all over again.

“Flip, please.”

Louis’ politeness made Harry whimper. It went unnoticed however. Harry flipped over, Louis settling his bum on his groin. Harry inwardly groaned and looked up at the ceiling, swallowing hard. He outlined the sharp points of the stars stuck to the ceiling with his eyes. It served as a constant distraction that Harry so desperately needed. Louis’ palms landed on his chest, rubbing up and down slowly.

Louis purposely avoided his nipples and went straight to his ribs. He dug careful fingertips in between the gaps and smoothed his fingers up, causing a rippling motion on his skin. He moved to his abdomen, pressing gentle swirling motions into his hipbones. Harry shuddered out a breath.

It was hard not to get hard. Almost impossible really. Because how could he not? Louis’ prodding fingers sent spirals of heat into his body and his plump arse was resting on Harry’s clothes covered cock. He clenched his fists at his sides and stared at the ceiling, gaze never straying away.

Then Harry felt wet skin hit his lower stomach. He looked down, Louis’ cool lips pressed to his burning skin. He lifted his head, staring intently at Harry now, his movements halting. Harry could now see that he wasn’t the only one getting excited. Louis sported a semi in his middle, his cock tenting his trousers. Harry looked up at him through lidded eyes, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. There was a bit of heat behind Louis’ gaze.

Louis gripped him tight by his shoulders and leaned in, searing their lips together. He brushed his thumbs over Harry’s cheekbones as he pulled Harry’s puffy lower lip in between his teeth, licking at the sensitive rose colored flesh. Harry whimpered into his mouth and canted his hips up. Louis whined into their kiss and rutted his hips, slipping a leg in between Harry’s quivering thighs.

Harry opened his lips wider, silently begging for Louis’ tongue. Louis complied and slid his tongue into his mouth, holding Harry closer as he kissed him harder. His hands moved to knead at the supple flesh of Harry’s hips, Harry moaning louder. He slid his tongue along Louis’, panting wet breaths into his mouth.

Louis pulled away with a heavy gaze. He kissed along his flushed cheek until he reached under his jawline, nibbling at the sensitive tendons in his neck. Harry might as well mark it with Louis’ name since he loved to kiss and bite him there. Harry grabbed Louis’ hips and squeezed, moaning softly as Louis’ sharp teeth dug into his skin.

He momentarily freaked out, remembering the remnants of Gemma’s makeup smeared on his neck. Louis didn’t seem to mind though, only sucking harder and giving him lovely, new fresh bruises. Harry kind of liked that Louis was marking his skin, showing to the world that Harry was not free on the market. Remembering Louis’ jealousy and obsessive control, it left little to the imagination.

Harry lolled his head to the side, breathing out a strangled moan. His body wracked with a shudder, goosebumps popping on his skin. Louis mouthed wet, tiny kisses at his neck, alternating between sucks and kisses. He looked him in the eyes, thumbing spit off his neck. His face was flushed pink, his eyes glassy and unfocused, his mouth obscenely red and wet with spit.

“Harry,” he said darkly.

He slid his hand down Harry’s stomach and into his boxers. He didn’t even bother to unbutton Harry’s trousers, causing to add more pressure to the already confined tightness. Harry muttered out a satisfied groan, sucking on his bottom lip. Louis gripped his cock, already blurting beads of precome at the tip and squeezed once. Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Harry,” Louis said again, voice pinged with lust. His eyes were the color of a midnight sea. So pretty. “I want you to laugh again.”

Harry breathed a laugh through his nose.

“You remembered.”

“Of course,” Louis mocked him, Harry’s own words echoing back inside his head in the shape of Louis’ mouth. “How could I forget?”

(Harry came undone in under five minutes record time. Louis smirked.)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's tired.

* * *

Harry and Louis were back together again. Well, if Harry said that he would be lying.

No, they weren't together properly but cold nights like these Louis would crawl into his bedroom and kiss him tenderly while his fingers worked inside him. He would leave in the mornings with pillow littered cheeks and a disheveled bed head. Harry would sneak him a cup of tea and send him on his way with a friendly pat on the arse.

It got so bad that Harry would toss and turn in bed all night if Louis wasn't tucked with him. He would begrudgingly get up from bed, throw on a sweater and bicycle to Louis' house in the wake of night, desperately trying to stay awake as he would veer off the road. When he would climb into Louis' bed, Louis would merely hum, "Hazza," in his sleep and hug him tighter to his chest. Harry wouldn't smile. Nope, he wouldn't. (He would.)

It went on.

Every time Harry would arrive to class that he shared with Jade, she would look at him in pity and shake her head. She was dutifully disappointed that Harry would never pop the question, simply letting Louis use him for his sex. He would argue back that he was equally using Louis for sex, though Harry got off on pleasing him even when he was achingly hard and blurting precome at the tip.

The lads stopped looking at Harry in question whenever he and Louis would join them with flushed cheeks and giddy smiles. They wanted to know if Harry finally told him he was in love with him. Harry would always shake his head no. Eventually the boys stopped asking and Jade stopped shaking her head.

Harry didn't care anymore if Louis never reciprocated his feelings for him. He was taking whatever Louis was willing to give him. He didn't know if that was selfless love or if he was just incredibly stupid. He liked to think it was the former even though it was probably the latter.

It was the end of the school day when Harry walked Louis to David Beckham. Not the footballer but the sleek, black Maserati. Harry was dressed in a crisp white collared shirt and a black classic tie for a presentation in his class. The boys and Jade teased him mercilessly but Louis popped his collar and smiled softly at him, murmuring, "I think he looks nice." Harry thought it was worth it.

"It's really hot in this outfit."

" _You're_ really hot in that outfit."

Harry huffed out a humorless laugh. He shoved his hands in his trousers pocket, standing in front of Louis and his car. Louis opened the car door and climbed inside, shutting the door behind him. He clasped his seatbelt in and turned the key in the ignition, David vibrating in a low hum.

"Hey," Louis started, squinting up at him. "I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight?"

"Sure." Harry bent over and hung his forearms on the open car window. "What time?" His eyes lit up with a new idea, his smile curling up into a smirk. "Ooh. Do you want me to bring my pink fuzzy handcuffs again?"

Louis' face blanched. "N-No," he stuttered, caught off guard. Harry smiled wider. "Not for that. I meant like, for dinner and stuff. It's Family Night, you know, the thing I told you where my stepdad doesn't work late and we all eat as a family together?"

Harry blinked rapidly. He lost some of his cool, shrinking in onto his awkward self again.

"Oh, yeah. That sounds nice."

"Okay." Louis smiled sunnily. "How's seven for you?"

"Sounds good."

"Good."

They stared at one another, smiling at each other quietly. Harry's lips quirked higher on the right than the left. Louis looked both ways before licking his lips and tugging Harry down by his tie. Harry hummed in surprise, Louis' lips brushing his. He didn't even register they were kissing, didn't even get to kiss back, when Louis pulled away with shiny lips. Harry's eyes sparkled.

It was little things like that, that made Harry fall deeper. He thought he had reached the bottom a long time ago but he was oh so wrong. Louis kept surprising him in the most amazing, subtle ways. Sometimes it was in bed, like when Louis would grow out his stubble and rim Harry for long enduring minutes, his stubble searing burns on his thighs because Harry loved the pain. Sometimes it was Harry going to school in a foul mood and an hour later Louis would sneak him out of his classroom, pushing a cup of Harry's favorite hot chocolate into his hands. Other times it was moments like these, where Louis dared to kiss Harry in public. Harry quite liked the last one.

"I'll see you tonight at seven."

"Tonight. Seven," Harry mumbled breathlessly.

Louis' eyes crinkled. He rolled up the window and pulled out of the parking lot, Harry backing a few feet away. Harry waved at him until Louis drove off. He walked to the courtyard and unlocked his bike. He pedaled the bike fast at the same tempo as his heartbeat.

He got home and rushed to his bathroom. He needed to get ready for dinner at Louis' house. It was barely four but he needed all the time in the world to prepare mentally and physically. He showered and decided to blow dry his hair. He combed through his hair with a brush, fluffing up the top. He slicked his hands with gel and ran them through the sides of his hair, slicking back pesky, winded curls. He looked at himself in the mirror, satisfied with his hair.

Next, he dug through his clothes and threw pieces of clothing over his head. His bottom lip jutted out in a pout. He finally settled on a plaid open blue shirt over a plain white shirt, topped off by his favorite pair of dark wash blue skinnies and brown boots. He wore a cross necklace to finish off his whole look. He needed God on his side if he wanted to survive tonight. He palmed his thighs, looking over himself in the mirror. He hummed contently.

His hum slowly dissolved into a grumpy scowl. He eyed his chipped red painted nails. That wouldn't do.

"Gemma," he wailed, pouting again.

Gemma poked her head through the door. She walked in and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She looked him up and down with assessing eyes, smiling.

"Well, well, well little bro. You clean up nice. Ready to woo Louis?"

"Mhm," Harry hummed. "Except I need help taking off my nail polish."

"What's wrong with it? I think Louis will like it. I'm pretty sure he dreams about putting makeup on your baby face."

Harry huffed out a breath. He shoved his fingers in Gemma's amused face, Gemma inspecting his fingernails closer. She dropped his hand, realization coloring her cheeks and walked backwards. She thumbed behind herself to her bedroom door.

"Oh," she breathed. "Alright. I'll get my nail polish remover."

Once she came back with her nail polish remover, she clutched Harry's fingers and swiped a cool liquid on his fingernails. She wiped his fingernails clean. She then coated his nails in a clear nail polish, making them look shiny and polished. She let go of his hand, Harry bringing them closer to inspect them.

"There," she mused. "Now no one but you and me will know about your nail polish."

"Thanks Gems!"

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, Gemma snuffling a surprised noise. He pulled back with shining eyes, admiring his nails. Gemma adjusted the collar on his shirt. She smoothed her hands up and down his arms. She cleared her throat to grab his attention. Harry looked up at her with a smile dancing on his lips.

"Are you nervous for tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Don't be. You look great. Louis will want to drop down on his knees, kiss your pretty toes and ask for your hand in marriage once he gets a good look at you."

Harry snorted. He looked down at his pigeon toed feet, his cheeks flushing.

"I doubt that's true."

Gemma hummed quietly.

"Maybe, maybe not. Just remember to be yourself. Obviously Louis likes you for you, though I don't know how that's possible."

Harry swatted her arm. She laughed abruptly and quieted down. She continued to smooth her hands on his shirt, palming over the wrinkles he missed.

"Seriously though, it's okay to be nervous a little bit but don't let that swallow you whole. Don't get in your head." She tapped her knuckles on Harry's temple. Harry chased her with amused eyes. "Listen to this instead. It comes in handy sometimes." She scratched the middle of his chest, motioning to his heart.

"My heart's stupid though."

"That it is."

Harry swatted Gemma on the arm again, Gemma dodging and prodding her fingers on his ribs. He guffawed loudly and pushed her wiggling fingertips away. His face was flushed read, his heart rabbiting out of control. Gemma ruffled up his hair and left him alone, closing her bedroom door after herself.

Harry huffed and smoothed the tendrils of ruffled curls back into perfection. He checked the time on his watch, his pulse increasing in momentum at the realization that it was half a quarter to seven. He thanked Gemma one last time, jogged down the steps to kiss his mum goodbye and pedaled on his bicycle to Louis' house. He picked up some orange California poppies on the way, making sure they were the prettiest and freshest in the shop.

He was so focused on getting there that once he arrived he was motionless, simply staring at Louis' lit house in a fancy neighborhood. He hopped down, his heart jumping with jittery nerves.

This was the first time he wasn't visiting Louis' house in secrecy. It felt like a new, thrilling experience. Harry walked up the few porch steps and ratted his fist on the door. He waited patiently and crossed his hands behind his back, hiding the pretty flowers from view.

A stunning woman with caramelized tan skin, flowing brown hair and blue eyes opened the door. Harry's breath caught in his throat. Louis looked exactly like her. Now he knew where Louis got his good looks from. She had the same deep set crinkles by her eyes, the same shade of eye color and the same blinding, pleased little smirk. Her face lit up in surprise at seeing Harry standing on the porch step.

"You must be Harry!"

"Yes ma'am."

"C'mon it! Louis talks so much about you."

Hope bloomed in Harry's chest. He raised his eyebrows in a pleased little way.

"He does?"

"He does," Louis' mum affirmed. "My name's Johannah but you can call me Jay. I think Louis is upstairs still getting ready. Why don't you sit in the living room while you wait for dinner?"

Harry nodded politely. His eyes widened in remembrance, collecting the California poppies and presenting them to Jay.

"Oh, these are for you."

"They're lovely! Thank you. I'll put them in a vase filled with fresh water."

She grabbed them and sent him a wink, walking towards the kitchen. Harry dug his hands in his pockets and walked inside the living room. Louis' home was fairly clean and smelled like lemon cleanser, but it was still lived in. Toys were strewn around the floor, fluttered papers and crayons scattered on the coffee table. Harry picked up a drawing and smiled at the seven colorful stick figures with two taller, lankier stick figures standing next to a house. Under the picture it read home.

Harry replaced the drawing back on the table and patted his hands on the tops of his thighs. Louis rushed down the stairs dressed impeccably in a dark burgundy sleeved shirt and black skintight jeans, his shiny black oxfords clicking on the polished floor. He tugged down the sleeves, rubbing his hands together.

“Harry,” he breathed, a smile shaking his lips. “Hi. Sorry I was just getting dressed.”

Judging by his clean skin and damp hair, Louis just hopped out of the shower. Louis came closer and hugged him, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Harry breathed him in, smelling of Old Spice aftershave and of his clean, warm skin. A pleasure of warmth oozed in his belly.

Jay’s head popped out of the doorway. She smiled at the boys embracing one another. Harry pulled away, smiling shyly.

“Louis you won’t mind taking care of the twins right? They’re in my hair and I need to finish preparing dinner.”

“No, not at all.”

Jay smiled happily.

“Thank you baby cakes. I’ll bring them right over.”

Harry looked over to Louis with a teasing smirk. He arched his eyebrow while Louis fidgeted beside him, clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Baby cakes?”

“Shut up.”

Harry giggled quietly into his fist. He looked up to see Jay hunched over, walking into the living room with two adorable babies, helping them waddle towards Louis. One of them, the little girl, was ruby rosed and curly, frizzy haired, gurgling with her hand pressed to her mouth. The little boy had flushed cheeks as well and blonde haired. They were both blue eyed and gorgeous.

Harry watched with fond eyes as Louis hoisted them both up into the air, settling each twin on either side of his hips. He smiled down at them, kissing their heads and blowing raspberries on their cheeks. The twins seemed to love him. They patted his cheeks and squirmed in his hold, giggling and smiling happily.

Louis looked endeared. He sported sparkling eyes and smiling lips, playing with them and hoisting them higher on his hips. Harry couldn’t stop watching him. He was mesmerized with the way Louis held them and played with them, how the little babies leaned into him and babbled and played right back. Harry could definitely see this in the future. In _their_ future. He couldn’t help the warmth that slowly spread outwards from his chest.

“Harry, this is Doris and Ernie. Doris, Ernie, say hi to Harry.”

Doris hid her face in his neck shyly while Ernie waved enthusiastically at him. He popped his finger from his mouth, shouting aloud, “Hi ‘Arry!” Harry giggled, waving at their giggling, flushed faces. The warmth spread to his face and neck, coloring him red.

“Hi babies!”

Louis narrowed his eyes, his lips sabotaging him and curling up into a soft smile. At that moment, two more set of twins ran into the living room, plastering to Louis’ legs and piling on top of him. “Louis! Louis!” they cheered, smiling and burying their faces in between his legs. Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at them. They loved their big brother.

“Ouch, Daisy! Don’t bite my leg. S’not nice. Daisy, Pheebs, this is Harry, my friend. Harry these are my two younger sisters Daisy and Phoebe. I’m afraid they overdosed on sugar.”

Harry bent low, pressing his hands on his knees. He beckoned them closer with a waggle of his finger, Daisy and Phoebe peeking at him from between the gap of Louis’ legs. Two pairs of curious eyes stared at him.

“Hello. Nice to meet you.”

Harry shook their hands lightly, soft tender skin grazing his skin. He released their hands and they squealed as one, hiding behind Louis’ legs again. He smiled at them and straightened his back, staring fondly at Louis as he bopped Doris on the nose, who giggled and pawed him away.

“Sorry, they’re a little shy.”

“Is that the boyfriend?”

“Daisy!”

Harry giggled quietly. Louis rolled his eyes and tried to push them away, attempting to shake them off his legs. They clung harder and screamed happily as Louis started walking, carrying them with him. It was a ridiculous sight but Harry loved it all the same. A blue eyed and blonde haired girl ran into the room with wide eyes.

“Daisy! Phoebe!”

Another girl ran to the room, except she was brown haired. They all seemed to have inherited Jay’s lovely blue eyes. Visions of curly haired babies with blue eyes flashed across Harry’s eyes. He imagined a life where Louis came home from work and several babies would run up to him giddily. Harry and Louis would play with them and tuck them into bed one by one. Afterwards, when they would come down from their orgasmic high, Harry would trace their children’s names on Louis’ inked skin with his lips. Harry was finally home.

Harry blinked rapidly, pushing all thoughts of Louis and babies and home to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to think up of unrealistic, intangible, untouchable dreams.

The two girls pulled Daisy and Phoebe from Louis’ fuzzy legs, each twin hugged in a separate girl’s arms.

“Harry, these are my other two sisters, Félicité and Charlotte. Fizzy and Lottie, this is my friend Harry. Fizzie’s the one with the brown hair and Lottie’s the one with the blonde hair.”

The two beautiful girls smiled at him, waving at him shyly. Harry tucked a stray curl behind his ear and waved back at them. Fizzy whispered something in Lottie’s ear and Lottie clamped a hand over her mouth, giggling abruptly. Louis glanced at Harry with a smirk, Harry dropping his head and huffing out breathless laughter.

“Sorry! We look away for one second and Daisy and Phoebe run away.”

“That’s quite alright.”

Daisy whined lowly, trying to escape Lottie’s wrath. Harry pressed his hands on his knees, leaning down. He murmured, “If you want, I can let you put makeup on me?”

Daisy shook her head yes eagerly. Harry nodded and stood up, smiling with pressed lips. Lottie and Fizzy waved at them one last time and pulled Daisy and Phoebe along with them, who nagged and persisted, but were pulled away regardless.

“They’re troublemakers,” Louis explained.

“Are there any more siblings I should be aware of?”

“Nope.” Louis smacked his lips together. “That’s all of us. Unless my mum decides to pop another set of twins.”

Harry laughed again. Harry and Louis sprawled on the floor, extending out their legs so they could form a diamond shape with their feet touching, barricading the gurgling twins in. Daisy and Phoebe ran back inside the living room, Lottie and Fiz nowhere in sight.

Harry saw with sparking eyes the big makeup bag they carried, along with a brush and colorful scrunchies. They sat next to him, Daisy opening her bag and pulling out mascara, blush and a variety of lipsticks. Phoebe sat behind him and started brushing his hair softly.

“Now girls,” Louis warned, his voice stern yet playful at the same time. “Don’t put too much makeup or scrunchies on Harry, alright? We’re eating dinner together and we don’t want him to look like a model, do we?”

Daisy giggled while Phoebe nodded energetically. Harry fluttered his eyes shut as Daisy curled his eyelashes carefully and coated his top lashes with black mascara. Behind him, Phoebe scrunched her fingers at the back of his head. It was all very relaxing. Like a day at the spa, except instead of professionals, he was surrounded by baby faces and prodding fingertips.

“I could see this,” Harry said after a moment’s breath.

“See what?” Louis asked obliviously. “I hope so ‘cause Daisy’s really jam packing mascara on your lashes.”

Harry laughed through his nose. He looked down at his lap, relaxing into the feel of Daisy and Phoebe making him pretty. Once they were done, the girls settled at either side of Louis and handing Harry a mirror. Louis was busy playing with Ernie’s fingers, his head facing down. Harry grabbed the mirror and turned it around, gazing at his reflection.

He looked…pretty. The green of his eyes popped from the mascara framing his eyelashes. He had on a little bit of bubblegum lipgloss painted on his mouth and his hair was long enough to withhold a single pink scrunchie at the top of his head.

“Thank you girls! I love it,” he praised honestly.

Daisy and Phoebe clapped their hands and smiled, looking very pleased with themselves. Louis looked up from Ernie’s hands. His mouth parted open, his eyes turning glassy. He was staring at Harry intently, eyes darting back and forth from his hair to his face. Harry touched his face.

“What? You don’t like it?”

“No. I mean, yes! You look…you look…” Louis licked his lips and tried again. “You look beautiful.”

Harry flushed under his unyielding gaze. Jay walked into the living room, eyes scanning the floor where all her children and one beautiful made up Harry were sprawled with makeup, brushes and scrunchies lying around messily. She shook her head but smiled, propping her hands on her hips.

“Girls, run along and get cleaned up. Dinner’s ready. Oh and Harry, you might want to take off the lipgloss. Won’t wanna get crumbs on your mouth darling.”

“Mum,” Louis whined.

(Yes, he whined over Harry not being able to wear his makeup. Yes, Harry was absolutely infatuated.)

“Please.”

She arched her eyebrow, unrelenting. Louis sighed in exaggeration. Harry smiled at him, secretly communicating with him _, ‘It’s fine_.’ She blew him a kiss and walked back to the kitchen. The girls stood up and dashed upstairs to change. Louis stood up and carried Doris and Ernie with him, setting them down in their playpen where they stared up at him sleepily. He pushed two pacifiers in their mouth, the twins instantly falling on top of each other and falling asleep.

Louis walked back and sat down, crossing his legs. Harry watched him quietly. Louis reached over and pulled the scrunchie from his hair, making his hair stand up. He laughed softly, breaths of warm air puffing over Harry’s unmoving face. Fingers slid through his hair, fluffing up the top. He scratched behind his ear, just a little wiggle of his fingers. He cupped Harry’s face gently and pressed their lips together. Louis sucked his top lip into his mouth then his bottom lip. Harry was all warm and fuzzy inside. He pulled away with a wet pop, smiling satisfactory, Harry’s lipgloss smeared on his lower lip.

“There we are.”

Harry looked at him with stars in his eyes. He thumbed the lipgloss from Louis’ mouth, Louis’ eyes flitting to his hand then back up to his eyes again. Harry pulled back his hand and rested it on Louis’ ankle. Louis smiled at him, resting his hands behind himself on the floor. It seemed like they were always lost in each other’s gaze, never looking away.

“We should eat dinner.”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed out.

Louis blinked rapidly. He blinked out of their trance and pulled himself up, helping Harry up with a hand. Harry thanked him quietly. Louis guided him to the kitchen with a hand pressed to his lower back, just like the first time he did when Louis ate dinner at his house. The smell of pork chops and alfredo sauce rushed into their noses. He rubbed his stomach, smiling.

“Hi boys. Sit down. I made some pork chops with roasted kale…” Harry almost came in his pants from the word kale, momentarily blanking out. “And walnut pesto and tortellini with my famous creamy white alfredo sauce with a side salad.”

“Why so much food? I thought it was just us?” Harry whispered softly, sitting down.

“We’re a family of nine plus one. The word left-overs doesn’t exist in our house.”

Harry snuffled a laugh. He sat quietly while Jay set up the plates and cutlery on the long wooden table, Louis’ leg occasionally bumping into his shin. He stood up immediately when he saw a sturdy fairly young man walk into the kitchen, dressed casually in a pale yellow shirt and black slacks. Harry extended out a hand.

“Harry Styles sir, it’s nice to meet you.”

They clapped hands loudly, Louis’ stepfather shooting him a small smile.

“Harry! The name’s Daniel. You can call me Dan.”

“Alright, Dan it is.”

Harry flashed him his brightest smile. They sat down and waited as Jay rounded the table and served their plates with delicious food. All the girls came downstairs dressed in their primmest outfits, looking pretty and polished. They all held hands and bowed their heads, Harry mouthing a surprised, “Oh,” and holding Louis’ hand in one and Daisy’s hand in the other. Jay began saying her prayer.

Harry peeked one eye open. He looked at Louis’ closed shimmering eyelids, his long eyelashes fanning out over his sharp cheekbones, casting a spell of shadows. The dim lights painted his skin golden. Harry was enraptured in his beauty. He couldn’t look away. He was just—so—breathtaking.

“Amen,” they rejoiced as one once Jay finished saying their prayer.

They dug in. Jay passed around buttered bread, hands anxiously waiting their turn to snatch one and sink their teeth into buttery goodness. Her bread tasted even better than the ones they served at the antique restaurant Harry would go with his family on special celebrations. The clatter of prongs hitting plates, mouths sipping drinks and hums of pleasure were heard.

“So Harry.” Dan sliced into his sauced tortellini, lifting the speared bite to his mouth. “What are you planning to do with your life?”

Louis stopped to stare at him, rolling his eyes.

“Dad.”

“What? It’s a perfectly good question. Are you planning to go into the law firm?”

“Mmm, not really.” Harrry’s teeth slid on his prongs, swallowing thoroughly before answering. “My mum wants me to become a lawyer or a doctor but I’m not really interested. No offense, of course. I’m thinking of becoming either a photographer in my own business or a school teacher for the young ones.”

“You like working with kids then?”

“Yes!” Harry’s eyes lit up dreamily. He speared a bite of tortellini, swirling it around the creamy white sauce. He paused, moving the tortellini speared fork in a circle. “I hope I have some of my own someday.”

“Ah, yes, well.” Dan nodded respectfully, gesturing towards Louis with his head. “I always tell Louis that work comes first. Isn’t that right Louis? After you have a stable job and income _then_ you can start a family of your own.”

Harry looked at Louis, who was scrunching up his face and spearing at his tortellini forcefully. He looked uncomfortable. Harry shifted in his seat. He palmed Louis’ thigh under the table comfortingly. Louis’ eyes snapped up to his face, clouded. Harry turned to look at Dan, smiling cheerfully.

“Yes, but, certainly you can’t help which comes first. If I find my soulmate when I’m poor, I’d rather be poor enriched with love than be rich and lonely.”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hummed, his gaze heavy and assessing. Harry had tucked his hands in between his thighs out of bad habit. A warmth spread on his upper thigh, Louis’ palm a constant reassurance.

“Sometimes you can control it. I was very lucky to find Jay after I was stabilized.”

He held Jay’s palm in his, who smiled and rubbed her thumb on his skin. Harry looked around the table at smiling faces. Jay had brought in the babies to eat, their faces smeared in creamy alfredo sauce. Lottie was looking down at her lap, probably texting away while Fizzy was drawing on a sheet of paper, sauce stuck to her chin. The other set of twins, Daisy and Phoebe, were talking quietly amongst themselves in their own secretive twin language. Harry smiled at Dan, cocking his head.

“You have a very lovely family.”

Dan’s eyes crinkled in response.

“Thank you.”

Harry looked at Louis with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, Louis smiling his reassurance. He nodded slightly, squeezing his thigh once. Harry leaned into the touch, letting himself be swallowed in a moment of selfish pleasure. He went back to eating, the table emerging into quiet chatter and soft laughs. At home, Louis was quieter and kept to himself. Harry slowly started to see all parts of him, the loud unabashed parts of him along with the mellow quieter parts. Harry loved all sides the same.

Dinner was going by lovely. Harry considered it a success until it slowly trickled into harsh reality. They were just about finishing dinner, Jay setting beautiful chocolate soufflés in the centerpiece when she cleared her throat and looked between Harry and Louis.

“Harry will you be staying for the night? I know the girls loved finally meeting Louis’ boyfriend.”

Louis spluttered on his spoonful of chocolate. Harry looked at him curiously, gauging his terrified expression. Color rose to Louis’ cheeks. He licked his lips and removed his hand from Harry’s thigh (ouch) and scooted his chair farther away from him (double ouch).

“Mum, no, Harry’s not…We’re not...Boyfriends. That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends.” 

Harry deflated at his words. It didn’t hurt that Louis saw him as a friend since they were best mates and all. The whole school practically knew it. But it was painful for him to realize that Louis thought it was a ridiculous idea. What was so ridiculous at the fact that they could be a couple? What was so ridiculous that they could be together in this messed up world? What was so ridiculous about Harry being in love with him even when Louis didn’t reciprocate the same feelings? It seemed like he moved one step forwards with Louis only to move two steps backwards. Hopeless.

“Excuse me.” Harry pushed his chair away from the table, standing up quickly. The chocolate tasted sour in his mouth. “I need to use the loo.”

He swiftly turned around and jogged up the elegant staircase, not even bothering to ask where the restroom was. He turned to the left and down the hallway. He opened and closed bedroom door after another, stumbling into half haphazardly thrown toys and clothes. He walked in the opposite end of the hallway. He opened the last door to the left, peering inside at the white porcelain bathtub and matching sink.

Harry closed the door behind him. He went to the sink and gripped the edges of the sink, dry heaving. He was so swelled up with frustration and anger that he couldn’t even cry. He breathed out harshly, staring at the sink angrily. He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was blotchy and red, his lips bitten to the point of bleeding.

Three rapid knocks ratted on the door.

“Harry,” Louis’ voice tentatively called. “Open the door. It’s me.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He rubbed his hands on his face, making his face even more irritated and angry red. He smoothed his hands over his hair over and over again.

“Baby,” Louis called again, his voice lowering in volume. “Open the door for me please.”

Harry opened the door slowly. Louis drank him in, his eyes darting across his face darkly.

“What’s wrong?”

Harry put on a wobbly smile for show. He sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“Nothing,” he said stiffly. “Everything’s perfect.”

He shouldered past Louis roughly, Louis stumbling to the wall. Harry bit back his lip to stop himself from crying.

He jogged down the staircase, Louis’ footsteps prodding closer. Louis reached out a hand and tugged him back. Harry turned to look at him with red rimmed bleary eyes, narrowing in aggravation. Louis’ grip on his arm tightened. His eyes were blue and clouded with confusion, the barest hint of sadness pulling at his skin.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me angel.”

“Everything’s _fine_ ,” Harry harshly breathed out with furrowed eyebrows.

He pulled his arm away. Louis’ fingers extended out to him, curling in the air, not quite touching him. Harry turned around, his movements halting. All of Louis’ family were gathered at the bottom, watching the two of them with confused, imploring eyes. He swallowed thickly.

“Dinner was lovely Jay. I had a nice time but I have to get going. I forgot to tell my mum I was having dinner at a mate’s house,” he rushed out feeling breathless.

He jogged down and hurriedly kissed Jay’s cheek, clapping Dan’s hand in passing. Jay looked at him with rounded, surprised lips. She watched him walk backwards, his back hitting the door, looking flustered. Louis squeezed Jay’s arm as he passed by her, standing before Harry.

“I…I’m gonna go. Thanks again.”

Harry opened the door and closed it behind him, jogging away. The door slammed shut again. He whipped his head around to look at Louis chasing after him. Harry turned around and ran faster.

“Wait! Hazza come back, _please_ ,” he begged, his voice shaky.

Harry slowed down his steps when he realized his bike was nowhere in sight. He turned around sharply, almost falling, his face morphed into bewilderment. He ran his hands through his now disheveled hair, breathing harshly through his nose and mouth. Louis caught up to him and hunched over, levelling his hands on his knees, looking up at him.

“Where is it? Where’s my bike Louis?” Harry asked frantically, looking manically.

“My dad put it in the garage.”

“Open it please.”

And Harry might be shaking with pent up frustration but he was never one for being rude. It was something his mum taught him when he was young. To show respect if you wanted respect back. He looked up at the blank night, his breath evening out into deep puffs of air.

“Please.”

“No. Not unless you let me drive you home and talk to me.”

“You can take me home.” Harry stared at him, licking his dry lips. “That’s it.”

“Okay.”

Louis unlocked his car, Harry rounding the car and climbing inside. He waited as Louis got inside as well, shutting the door behind him. Louis stared at him as he pushed the key into the ignition and turned on the car. Harry stared at a random fixed point in his vision. Louis pressed a hand to Harry’s seat and looked back, backing out of the driveway. He looked at him as he moved his hand on the steering wheel, never blinking away. Harry couldn’t bear to look at him.

They drove in silence. When Louis stopped in front of his house, Harry wordlessly climbed out of the car. He walked to the entrance of his house, feeling Louis’ presence a few feet away from him. Louis wasn’t a quitter. Harry knew this. Somehow, it only agitated him even more. He just wanted to be left alone.

“Harry, c’mon.” Louis tried again for the final time that night. “Talk to me love.”

“Don’t.” Harry turned around, scrutinizing his gaze. He loomed over him, dark shadows playing on Louis’ mellow face. “Don’t call me that ever.”

Louis looked torn. He reached out a hand to touch him but stopped shortly, hanging it stupidly in the air. Harry eyed him warily. Louis offered him his hands, palms raised up.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“I just…” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed heavily. “I’m a little tired. I just need to be alone. Can I be alone?”

Louis looked down at the floor sadly, toeing his shoe on the porch step. He murmured quietly, “I thought tonight was going perfect. I thought…”

Harry slammed the door in his face. He stood there unnervingly, staring at the closed door. He didn’t feel remorse or guilt crawling up his throat. He was just tired. Maybe he could be rude after all.

He dragged himself upstairs to his bedroom with heavy footsteps. He neglected to brush his teeth, opting for awful breath in the morning. He slipped off his clothes and slid into the cool sheets of his bed. He pulled the duvet and bedsheets over his warm body. He drifted his eyes shut, Louis’ hurt face burning at the back of his eyelids.

He fell asleep with Louis’ face embedded in his memory.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More broken boys that don't know what they're doing.

* * *

Harry broke up with Louis Monday morning. “Broke up.” It was just a few, simple words but it pierced his heart in half all the same.

**I’m giving you up. I’m sorry.**

Harry couldn’t forget the look on Louis’ face when he read it. He was leaning against the wall of lockers talking to Stanley, ankles crossed together. He didn’t mean to be there when Louis came, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t leave either. He was stuck on Louis arriving happily, a dizzying smile in place, and shot him a tiny smile. Harry looked away.

He bit on his lip harshly as he heard the inevitable locker open. He timidly dared to look up. Louis grabbed the small piece of paper with his name written over it, turning it around to read the message. His brows pinched together. He looked towards Harry with a question written in his eyes. Harry avoided his eyes, instead focusing his attention on Stanley and sucking on his bottom lip. Out of his peripherals, he saw Louis scowl and crumple the note into a ball, throwing it on the floor and slamming his locker shut. He walked away with tensed shoulders and quick footsteps.

Harry’s heart broke.

He thought he could do this, whatever this was, with Louis. He thought it was enough. And it was, in the beginning. Louis was enough. They fucked, they tried new things in bed, Louis exploring Harry’s kinky side and Harry learning about Louis’ soft spots and ways he liked to be pleased during sex. They were happy. Harry was happy. But then afterwards, with Louis’ nose buried in his hair, Harry would silently whimper and cry himself to sleep. His heart would ache. Empty with a burning need for Louis’ love.

He thought it was enough, _they_ , were enough. Harry was wrong.

On April 27th, Louis slowly started disappearing from Harry’s life. It was subtle enough that Harry didn’t realize the first signs when it started occurring. When they would hang out in a group, Louis always had excuses about leaving early. The lads and Jade would shrug, Harry watching him go every single time.

On May 6th, Louis stopped talking to Harry altogether. They would talk bits and pieces on the edge of uncomfortable, but he was happy Louis him talking to him again after he ignored Harry for weeks after the note. Then he just stopped, oblivious to Harry’s existence. It hurt.

On May 12th, Harry received his own personalized note. It slipped out of one of his textbooks, falling at his pigeon toed feet. He bent down and picked it up. Twelve words. That’s all it took for his heart to start pounding in his ears and for his lip to start quivering.

**I would appreciate it if you didn’t come to my games anymore.**

He looked up as Louis walked with Stanley to class, laughing in an ill-timed laughter. He brushed past him without a second glance. Every Friday afternoon after that, he would walk pass the chain link fence hearing the cheers of diehard fans. He would shoulder his backpack higher and drag his feet across the pavement, feeling heavier with every step he took.

On May 21st, Louis disappeared from his life altogether. He didn’t text or call him. He didn’t talk to him in the hallways. He didn’t initiate a conversation if they so happened to be in the same room together. He didn’t sit with him at lunch or brush their arms together or smile at him in the way it made his eyes crinkle or throw his head back and laugh at one of Harry’s poor knock-knock jokes or play footsie with him underneath the table or throw popcorn in his mouth or inhale his scent and press his knees up against his legs, holding him tight. Holding him safe. Louis was gone.

(That one hurt the most.)

. . .

“You know, maybe it’s just not meant to be. They say you have multiple soulmates before you find the right one.”

Harry lolled his head on his neck to stare at her. His face was bored.

“It’s true!”

Jade went back to thumbing massages on the base of Harry’s neck. Harry lifted his chin and stared up at the ceiling. He blew air out of his puffy lips. Jade provided a warm, comforting reassurance. He brought his head back from out of the sky and looked over at Louis talking with the teacher, hands gesturing dramatically with his story. The teacher laughed and nodded. Louis even charmed the impossible teachers.

Harry jogged down the steps of the school. It was late after school and all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and take a nap. For a hundred years. Lately, getting up in the mornings was becoming meaningless. Showering every day and brushing his teeth was becoming a tedious task. Existing was becoming agonizing.

He unlocked his bicycle and rolled it out of the bicycle rack. He threw a leg over the seat and hopped on. Just then, he heard the familiar high-pitched raspy voice. Except it wasn’t alone. It was accompanied by a sweetly sick voice, this one even more high-pitched. Louis walked across the courtyard smiling, Lindsay wrapping an arm around his and holding him close. They climbed inside the car looking like a proper, happy couple.

Harry surmised they were a thing now.

There was a split second where Louis looked up to see Harry. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat. Whenever they looked at each other, it was as if time stood still. As if they were stuck in this limbo and he couldn’t look away from Louis’ seafoam colored eyes. He was and always has been beautiful. Then Louis looked away. And so did Harry.

They went on in their own separate lives. Harry got home and climbed upstairs to change into something comfortable for dinner. He pulled on a university hoodie without a shirt on and some clean boxers after smelling them. He jogged down the steps and sat down at the kitchen table, waiting for everybody else to sit down so he could eat.

The kitchen atmosphere was stuffy and awkward. Usually Harry would be rambling on about his school day and talking about Louis (being careful to exclude the sexy bits) while Anne would smile endearingly at him and Gemma would roll her eyes. Des would just shake his head and dig into his food. But that all changed after the note. He avoided Anne’s worried eyes and Gemma’s questioning ones. Des would merely dig into his food, oblivious to the obvious change. He was grateful for him. He didn’t need anyone’s pity.

He was fine, really. (He was not.)

Anne cut a bite of hearty ground beef with cheddar and egg noodles. She lifted it to her mouth, glancing at Harry. Harry continued to spear bite after bite, quickly shoving them into his mouth. The faster he finished eating, the faster he would get to leave.

“Harry, honey, slow down.”

“Nope,” Harry’s muffled reply came through. His cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk’s. “I’m starving.”

“At least drink some of your tea or you’ll choke.”

Harry gulped down the rest of his tea in a few swallows. He wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand and started eating hurriedly again. Gemma wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Nope.”

“Did anything fun?”

Harry stared at her unblinkingly. After five beats, he looked down and shoved more food into his mouth.

“Well,” Anne hesitated. “Have any plans for the weekend?”

Harry swallowed. He stood up, the chair scraping on the floor, and placed his empty dish in the sink. He placed his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and leaned against the countertop. Anne bit inside her lip. He slowly rolled his shoulders in a shrug.

“I appreciate the talk, truly, but I don’t feel like talking much.”

“Harry I’m trying.”

“I know mum, I know.”

With that, Harry walked upstairs to his bedroom while Anne watched him leave helplessly. Gemma clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. She patted Anne’s hand gently and offered her a contemplative look.

“He’s on his period. Let him be.”

“But Gemma, he looks so sad.”

“Let him.”

Anne looked at her husband. She frowned when he was scrolling past some sports highlights on his phone. She nudged him in the side, hard. He startled, hiding the bright screen from her prying eyes. She raised both her eyebrows.

“Did I miss something?” he asked, finally noticing Harry’s empty chair.

Anne sighed and rolled her eyes.

Harry climbed into bed, pulling the cool sheets over his head. He propped his hand under the pillow and fluffed it up, closing his eyes and breathing the scent in. Even though it has been a couple of weeks since Louis last slept in his bed, the sheets still faintly smelled like him. Warm, clean soapy skin. With a hint of Harry’s strawberry scented shampoo. He was just about to drift into sleep when knocks ratted on the door.

He groaned weakly. Gemma poked her head inside, snuffling a laugh at a Harry shaped lump hidden underneath the covers.

“I come bearing popcorn and cuddles,” she said cheerily.

Harry grunted out an incoherent response. Gemma took that as a yes. She closed the door after herself and slipped in besides Harry, placing the buttered popcorn on her lap.

She flicked on the TV and mindlessly clicked through Netflix recommendations. She put on _Pretty in Pink_ and dissolved back into bed. She pulled the duvet under Harry’s head and scrunched her fingernails in his tousled locks, scratching his scalp with tentative flicks. Harry hummed in contentment.

Harry finally submissed after hearing Molly Ringwald’s voice. He propped himself on the pillows and rested his head on Gemma’s shoulder. Gemma wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him in. She smelled like lavender, their mum’s washing powder. It was nice.

“I broke up with Louis a couple of weeks ago,” he said quietly.

“I thought you weren’t a couple.”

“We weren’t.”

Gemma squeezed his arm once.

“You’re a cupcake. Louis’ will come around.”

Harry looked at her profile with wide, unblinking eyes. Colors from the movie washed over her face in incandescent lights. “Yeah but what if he doesn’t?” Harry asked brokenly. He sounded pathetic even to his own ears.

“Then you move on and fall in love with someone else all over again.”

“How did you know I was in love with him?”

“I have ears and eyes, you know.”

“Oh.”

They watched the movie in silence. Gemma was a warm body that Harry appreciated at this time. She didn’t pry about his broken relationship or question him like he knew his mum would. She just sat there watching the movie with him in complete silence. It’s what he needed.

Halfway through the movie, Harry’s eyelids started to flutter shut, dripping with sleep. He vaguely recalled the cool sheets glide over his skin, the press of his lips to his cheek, and a door closing. He wanted to say thank you but instead he sank further into the mattress, his eyes fully closing shut.

He dreamed about Louis and his sinful, poison lips.

. . .

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

Harry’s ears perked. He heard the ticking of pebbles against his window, sounding like the pitter patter of rain. He roused slowly from bed and sat up, blinking away the sleep. He stood up and slinked to the window. He opened it, the cool rush of breeze prickling goosebumps on his skin. He stared out into the lawn. There was nothing, only the rotating sprinklers. He frowned.

He slipped back into bed but only for his ears to be assaulted once again by another round of pebbles. He groaned and jogged down the stairs. He went to the back door and opened it, peering outside to the dark night. Nothing. He scowled and was about to go back to sleep when he heard it.

The splash of rain.

He went to the front door and opened it with bleary eyes. There, standing in soaked clothes and shivering skin, stood Louis Tomlinson, the boy of his dreams. He looked exactly the way Harry remembered him. He was fluffy haired and pretty, with slight sharp features contouring his face and gorgeous blue cool eyes. But underneath all those boyish features and mischief, he was also sneakily rugged, stubble dotting his chin and skin inked. Even though he just saw him a few hours prior, it felt like he hasn’t seen him in lifetimes. Like this, up close and personal.

He was also drenched in water, his hair matting to his forehead even under his maroon and yellow Vans cap and rain racing past his sharp cheekbones. His clothes were wet and clinging to his skin. Harry could trace the outline of his abs through his sheer, black cotton sticking to his stomach.

“Louis. What are you doing here?”

It was like rubbing alcohol on a fresh wound. But Harry did love the pain after all.

“Harry. I came to win you back.”

Harry’s eyebrows pinched. His eyes remained on Louis’ face even though he wanted to glaze his eyes over his wet, shivering skin. On his sheer shirt sticking to his skin, his puffy nipples barely visible. He was wet and more gorgeous than ever. Like Harry’s wet dream came alive right before him.

“What are you talking about?”

“I—I miss you Harry. I miss your cheesy jokes and your dumb face and your bright smile and your green eyes that is the best color of green and the way you looked at me like I _meant_ something. I miss hearing your stupid voice and watching you sleep and you knowing how to make me a cup of tea. I want you. Only you Harry. No one else. I miss all that. I want a second chance. Please.”

His voice was close to breaking. He looked so small and vulnerable. Harry wanted to tuck him to his chest and wrap a blanket over both their bodies, even if Louis’ skin was soaked and Harry’s was warm from sleep. He wanted to trace his lips on his stomach, his hipbone, his thighs. He wanted to watch Louis sleep delicately, his skin soft and smooth, worry free. He wanted everything with Louis.

“I—Lou—N-No. I can’t do this. I want to, believe me I do. But I’m flying blind here Louis. I can’t just give and give and give all the time. I’ve always thought you were my soulmate but maybe Jade is right, maybe you’re not my _right_ soulmate. And I can’t wait on you forever. As much as it hurts me, I have to let you go.”

“What’s that saying about love? Shit, fuck. Um. Oh, yeah! You let them go and if they come back then it’s true love. I’m here Harry. I’ve come back. Don’t push me away. I-I know I’m not there yet Harry, I know, and it kills me when you tell me you love me with your eyes and I can’t say it back ‘cause the words get stuck in my throat and my heart stops beating and it feels like I can’t breathe…Like I’m suffocating…Like I’m drowning. But I’ll get there. I promise. Just give me some time, yeah?”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long until you decide to love me back?”

“I…I don’t know.” Louis’ eyes sagged, heavy with insecurity. Harry drank him in. From the way his shoulders dropped to the way his lip quivered downwards. His stance unsure and far. If Harry reached out to touch him he wouldn’t reach him. It was the first time that he saw Louis without all of his layers, crumbling down like a shy, growing eighteen-year-old. Louis was unguarded. “But if you just give me some time I’ll figure out.”

“For fuck’s all, Louis. This is what I’m talking about. This. I just can’t wait for fucking forever like a damn lost puppy waiting for their owner to come back. If you don’t love me now, how will you love me in the future? What’s it gonna take?”

“Listen to me, Haz.” Louis ran a desperate hand through his slick hair. He looked on the edge of breaking down. He looked scared. “All I know is that I like you. _A lot_. That’s all you need to know. You’re the first and the last thing in my mind and all I ever wanna do is go to school so I can listen to your deep voice. I catch myself scribbling your name in my notebooks like a stupid teenager with a crush and sometimes I drive to your house without even realizing it. I never stop thinking about you. Your voice, your laugh, your smile. It’s every single damn second of my entire life.”

Harry whined low in his throat like a damn crushed puppy.

“I can’t do this anymore Lou. I can’t risk getting heartbroken over you. I’m never gonna heal if I cut open the wound again.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you Harry. Never. I’d rather transfer the pain onto myself but I’d never want to see you in pain. You deserve love. You deserve happiness. And I—I still can’t believe you love me. I’m so lucky and damn grateful for that. I will never understand how someone like you can love someone like me.”

“Louis,” Harry said softly, the word curling in the air. He smiled infinitesimally, his eyes growing with fond. “How could I not? You’re wonderful.”

He wondered when he started to comfort Louis when mere seconds ago he was gonna end it all, one final blow.

“I’m not. I’m really not. I don’t know if you’ve realized, but I’m seriously fucked up. I’m a shithead who charms people to get something I want and I’m manipulative and an arsehole and I don’t care about anyone but myself. I…I just don’t understand.”

Louis wet his lips briefly, tongue darting out on the flaked, chapped skin—that horrible habit of his when he was biting his anxiety away.

“How can you love me when all I ever do is hurt you? How can you love me when I can’t say three simple words back? How can you love me when I openly flirt with people right in front of you? How can you love a fucked up mess? ‘Cause that’s what I am Harry. I’m a mess. I wish I was worth but I know what you deserve. And it’s not me.”

“You’re _my_ mess.”

“See? You say sweet shit like that and I’m here spluttering nonsense.”

“I still don’t think I can manage being more than friends with you. It hurts. You say that you like me but I don’t feel it. I don’t see you express it other than fucking me. I don’t—“

“You don’t see it? Christ, Harry, are you thick? Or are you just simply stupid?”

“Hey,” Harry muttered darkly, defensive.

“No, I’m serious. Because yeah, of course not, I haven’t told you my story that I’ve never told another single soul. I’ve never brought you home and introduced you to my family. I’ve never kissed you softly when I’m fucking you deeply. I’ve never shown you the parts of me that nobody has ever seen. Or the small white scars on my thighs when I admitted to myself I was gay.”

Harry’s breath hitched at that. He remembered that night like it was yesterday.

_They curled around in Louis’ living room in front of the lit fire, toasting marshmallows like they were outside with blinking stars and a real campfire. They exchanged sweet, marshmallow kisses, Louis’ lips sticky and soft._

_Louis sucked him off real good and tight, making it last, making Harry shudder and clamp his hand over his mouth to silence his moans. Making him orgasm buckets of come all over his chest and neck. Louis licked him clean afterwards with tentative, wet kitten licks. Harry cupped his face and kissed him warm and deep, relishing in his own taste lingering on Louis’ slick tongue._

_“Can I show you something Harry?”_

_Harry nodded slowly, still coming down from his orgasmic high. Louis was dressed in his striped pale blue boxers, matching the color of his eyes. His cock was still hard and wet against the thin material, pushing outwards. He ignored his obvious erection and pulled the ends of his boxers up._

_Harry gasped harshly through his nose. White visible scars were scattered on Louis’ pale thighs. Some were deeper than others, cutting through his sensitive skin. Others were whiter than the rest, resulting in the earlier scars. Harry looked at him with imploring eyes, silently asking him. Louis nodded._

_“I cut myself when I realized I liked boys. I preferred the pain than the gnawing feeling inside,” he explained quietly._

_Harry traced gentle fingertips across the ones lower on his skin, raising the tips of his fingers to his upper thigh. He barely touched them, just a brush of his fingers. Louis was breathing heavily, motionless, watching Harry thumb his scars. Harry didn’t cry. He didn’t ask about them. He simply asked,_

_“Can I do something?”_

_“What?”_

_Harry didn’t answer. He perched between Louis’ thighs and slid down all the way to his stomach. He pressed his face between his thighs and brushed his lips on his scars, just like he did with his fingertips. Louis inhaled sharply. Harry continued to kiss the scars one by one, alternating between kissing him and sucking his skin._

_Harry’s tongue lathed on the scars closest to his middle. He pinched his skin between his sharp teeth, tongue tracing the indentation of his scar. Louis moaned softly and brushed his fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry hummed and bit a little bit harder. Louis’ back hit the floor, staring at Harry intently with lust through rows of dark eyelashes. Harry released his flesh and rubbed his thighs with smooth, warm palms._

_“They’re not made from pain anymore. They’re made with love now.”_

_Louis’ answering smile made Harry hum softly and press his burning cheek to Louis’ leg. Louis waggled his fingers to him, beckoning him to come closer. Harry complied and snuggled in his arms, splaying out over him. Louis hugged him tighter and kissed the top of his head._

_The fire crackled and their marshmallows melted. But Harry couldn’t find a reason to care. He was wrapped in Louis’ arms, where he was supposed to be. That’s all that mattered to him._

Harry blinked back the tears. He watched with sad eyes as Louis barreled on about all the things he’s never done.

“I’ve never shown you all these things because I don’t care about you Harry. I’m standing in the rain begging for a second chance because I don’t care at all.”

Harry swallowed thickly past the lump of harboring emotions.

“Lou.”

“Fuck all, right? Fuck everything. I don’t give a fuck about anyone or anything."

"Louis," Harry started, bewilderment shocking his voice.

"Harry I heard you."

"What?"

"I heard you that night. When you said you loved me."

"What? I don't—I'm not..." Harry stuttered. He was barely incomprehensible, stringing up words to fill in the empty gaps of conversation. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb, Harry. I just wanna say I...Shit, I have to, sorry, I can’t hold this up anymore.”

Louis dropped the hose of water, winding his arm back. Harry’s eyes widened in shock. Water raced down Louis’ sharp cheekbones and pooled in his delicate collarbones. His eyelashes were clumped together by rain droplets. He shivered and curled his hands around himself, cold now that the persistent rush of water wasn’t pouring over him. A single drop of water fell from the strong line of his nose to land on the bow curve of his lips.

“What—You were holding up a hose this entire time?”

 “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. Figured you liked the sappy rom-com stuff and I decided to play it out.”

Harry shook his head from side to side. Disbelief colored his voice. He was still flushed with shock, opening and closing his mouth a few times. His mouth felt dry.

“I…Louis…I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”

“Either that or I would bring my radio in that scene where Lloyd was holding up a boombox in _Say Anything._ Seems like you’re the artsy type that appreciates big, romantic gestures. Besides, I’d do anything for you Harry.”

And it was just that. That simple sentence that struck a chord with Harry.

_I’d do anything for you Harry._

_I’d do anything for you Harry._

_I’d do anything for you Harry._

How could he say no to that? How could he say no to Louis? How could he resist his sharp smiles and piercing mischief twinged eyes? How could he resist his sweet kisses and raspy, high-pitched voice? How could he resist his gravelly voice in the mornings and his soft voice in the nights? Louis was _everything_.

Harry swallowed, licking his lips. He lifted his chin up, his eyes glimmering with tears.

“I would wait a thousand lifetimes if I could be with _you_. So, please, c’mere.”

Louis gaped at him.

“Really?”

Harry rolled his eyes fondly. He mumbled, “Come here before I change my mind.” Louis didn’t need any more reassurance. He stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around Harry’s sleep heavy body. The droplets of water stuck to Harry’s warm skin. Harry inhaled his scent, flushing a hot wave of arousal in his body. He couldn’t help it. Louis was warm and cold at the same time, pressed flush to his skin and deliciously wet.

He wanted to take him to bed, wreck him painfully so and show him how much he missed him. He wanted to have him in every position tonight. Have him on all fours doggy style while Harry pushed into him thick and hard, or lay on his back while Louis hovered above him, hesitant and a little dazed as he slowly sat down on Harry’s face. He wanted to have Louis on his back while Harry fucked into him, his shaking legs around his shoulders and buzzing with pleasure, or have him on his stomach while Harry’s wet cock disappeared between his supple arse cheeks.

Louis looked up at him, his smiling face nuzzled under his chin.

“Would you have really changed your mind?”

“Don’t be crazy. I could never say no to you.”

It was true.

Gemma walked past them dressed in a black tank top and pink, ruffled bottoms. A green mask was smeared on her face, probably for her acne and dark spots. She stared at Louis tucked under Harry’s arms. She smiled softly.

“Hi Lou. S’nice to have you back.”

“Hi Gemma,” Louis said happily. “Thanks. It’s good to be back.”

It _was_ good, wasn’t it? Louis was finally home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we're here, the end! It's been such a long time coming. Now, I wanna start off by saying what an adventure this has been! I absolutely loved this story from beginning to end, how crazy it seemed that this plotline came to me in a dream. Writer probs, I guess. I wanna thank each and every single one of you for leaving kudos, commenting, or simply just reading. You've made this experience that much more worthwhile. Also, this chapter is way too long and needed to be split up in two but I decided to leave it together since I've been away and took so long to update you guys on the last chapter. Bit of a cliffhanger there, innit? Let me know if you loved the ending as much as I did and remember, comment down below if you think I should write a short epilogue for old time's sake. (I have some future ideas.)
> 
> Louis loves Harry.

* * *

Graduation was today.

Harry could feel the anticipation of nerves thrumming inside everyone’s veins when teachers scattered to submit final grades, mums fluttered in shops trying to find the perfect pair of slacks for their sons, and students cherished every moment with every fellow friend and classmate before they all went their own separate lives.

Harry wasn’t nervous, _in fact_ , he was excited.

He had been working hard for this day since the start of Year 10. He’s made the most of his years here and made the best friendships with his mates. He also got together with the love of his life, so that’s something. Being with Louis was always new and exciting, like a fresh beginning, never dull or boring. They were like an old married couple, always bickering over the silliest of things, except they were young and sex crazed.

Harry stopped obsessing with the fact that Louis never told him he loved him. He felt it in other ways that mattered more to him than three simple words. He felt it when Louis told him to drive safely every day after school, when he wished him good luck before a big exam, when he would get out of his insecure shell and talk to new people and Louis would smile winningly at him.

He especially felt it when Louis would grip his hips tightly and fuck into him raw and deep, biting his shoulder and wiping come from his belly. Afterwards, he would tuck him into bed and cuddle him from behind, kissing the shell of his ear and winding an arm around the curve of his waist. It was like Harry could _feel_ his love in every touch of his fingertips, in every whispered word, in every longing look. Louis didn’t need to tell him he loved him anymore. He just knew.

The only dilemme was that Harry was going to University College London while Louis would attend University of Manchester. It was a four-hour drive but he knew they would make it. Their relationship was stronger than ever and he wouldn’t go if he knew they weren’t stable. He had faith. Hope.

Louis had slept in the night before. He was watching Harry dress in front of the mirror with lazy, sleep-lidded eyes. Harry tucked the end of his tie through the loop and pulled, straightening it out. He tried rearranging it perfectly so it could align straight between his collar but to no avail.

He smirked at Louis’ reflection in the mirror. Louis was licking his lips hungrily and watching him intently with arousal blown in his dark irises. He still sported red swollen lips from where he woke up Harry with a morning blowie, Harry’s favorite. Louis rubbed his hands over his face, leaving his cheeks itchy red and his hair sticking out in odd directions. There was a bit of spit on the corner of his mouth. Beautiful.

“Why don’t you come back to bed, angel?” Louis rasped out, his voice uncharacteristically gruff.

“Can’t, gotta get ready for graduation which…” Harry bent down and kissed Louis' pink cheek. “You should get ready too. Don’t wanna be late, do we?”

“Fine. I’ll get ready mum.”

Harry stared at him with wide eyes, his hands halting on his silk tie.

“Well I hope not. I wouldn’t want your mum do to you with what my mouth did.”

“Gross.” Louis scrunched his nose and shook his head, drumming his palms on his thighs. He pulled the warm duvet from his naked body save for his all black Topman boxers and hopped down. “You’re gross in the mornings.”

Harry merely shrugged, continuing to fuss with his tie. Louis came around and turned him around by his hips. “C’mere dork,” he breathed softly. He looked down at him as Louis undid his hard work and looped the tie on itself again. He tugged on it so that it fit snug around Harry’s collar. He patted it and murmured contently to himself, placing his hands on his hips.

Harry looked down at his perfectly aligned tie then back up at his lovely boyfriend. He was pink cheeked and happy, crinkles set deep in the corners of his eyes. His cheeks were littered with pillow creases and he smelled warm and clean, his body swaying from not enough sleep. Their nights consisted of more fucking than sleeping. But Harry always slept better after sex.

“Thanks babe.”

“No problem.”

Harry kissed his forehead, his lips remaining on his skin even after the chaste kiss. Louis reluctantly pulled away and squeezed his hand, smiling softly up at him. He went to gather his clothes and tugged on his jeans, pulling them up to his waist and buckling his belt. He lifted the window and threw a leg outside.

Harry frowned.

“Y’know.” He thumbed behind himself, his mouth ajar. “You can take the front door now. Mum knows you sleep over most nights.”

Louis’ fluffy hair poked out from his shirt. “Nah,” he brushed him off, tugging the hem of his shirt all the way down. Harry’s gaze traveled down and lingered at the sliver of golden skin peeking through. He raised his eyes back up again, questioning.

“Feels kind of naughty sneaking around. I missed it so…”

Louis shrugged nonchalantly and swiped his other leg over the windowsill. Harry shook his head at him, a confused smile splitting his face. “You’re so fucking weird,” he commented, his voice filled with awe. Louis sent him a cheeky wink and an, “Aw, thanks babe,” before disappearing altogether. Harry pursed his lips from smiling too wide.

Three knocks ratted on the door repeatedly. Harry whipped his head around to notice Gemma poking her head through the open door.

“Hey Curly head, ready?”

Harry ran both hands through the sides of his hair. Gemma had helped him with the blow dryer the previous night before Louis came over so that his hair would be swept up artfully, tousled into perfect ringlets of curls, the way Louis liked so much. His hair was getting long. It was starting to spiral downwards up to his shoulders now. Maybe he should cut it soon.

“Yep,” he said, palming the tops of his thighs.

He pulled on his royal blue gown and zipped up the golden zipper. He tugged on his cap, careful as to not mess up his ringlets. He moved the tassel to the right and beamed at himself. He looked good.

He looked over at Gemma approvingly. She was wearing a tasteful little black dress, not too revealing yet not too plain. It had a beautiful curved neckline. Her blonde hair was curled, framing her heart shaped face nicely.

He offered her two thumbs up. He shouldered past her and she made way to ruffle up his hair, Harry squawking his protests and ducking just in time. They climbed down the steps to meet their mum downstairs. He rolled his eyes fondly when he saw her holding up a camera eagerly.

“Get together loves! Nice and tight. I need pictures for grandma.”

She ushered them to stand next to each other. Harry smiled sheepishly and stood next to Gemma awkwardly. Anne snapped photo after photo, Harry blinking several times after the blinding flashes never stopped. He covered his face with his hand, squeezing his eyes tight.

“Mum,” he laughed, groaning at the same time. “Please stop. One is enough.”

“Oh honey.” She sniffed, lowering the camera and wiping her runny nose with the back of her hand. “I’m so proud of you. Can’t believe my baby is growing up.”

“Alright. Let’s go before the waterworks begin,” Gemma sighed.

They clambered into the car. Throughout the drive, Harry gripped Gemma’s hand into his, Gemma squeezing his tightly. She gripped his arm with her other hand, squeezing once. They sang cheery songs during the drive, laughing and smiling, Harry’s smiles nervous tinged albeit.

Once they parked, they all separated with mushy hugs and kisses. There was no time to find Louis and kiss him good luck on the cheek since he was their student body’s salutatorian. Harry on the other hand was the class valedictorian and he was buzzing with excitement and nerves. He took his spot backstage, clenching his fingers every few minutes or so. It seemed like Louis was nowhere in sight. He must have been running late.

After the staff and the principal’s gradual speeches, Harry was up first. He exhaled a long breath and walked onstage following the round of applause. He was feeling confident about his speech. He had memorized it all night long in order not to look unprofessional with a stack of cheat sheets. Besides, he was going to a university ranked number seven in all of England after all.

He drummed the tips of his fingers onto the podium. He smiled shyly once the applause simmered down. He cleared his throat and raised the microphone higher. He smiled sheepishly again.

“Hello everybody, m’name’s Harry Styles. If you didn’t know that before then…Hello, m’name’s Harry Styles.” A round of laughter. Good. Harry sighed shakily. “Good evening Class of 2016. Before I commence my speech, I would like to thank my family and my grandparents who unfortunately couldn’t make it tonight. Hi gram and pops. I would also like to thank my friends and academic judicators. Without any of you, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Now, I realize some of you might not care what I am about to say so I invited my good friend Niall up here to enhance this experience with some mood setting music. You should accommodate your ears so that as you get bored and zone in and out of my speech, all you would be able to hear is the soothing sounds of a guitar.”

A chorus of laughter rang true in the air. At that moment, Niall climbed onstage and situated himself on a stool, propping his guitar on his lap. He brought the mic lower to be level with the strings. He strummed a few chords, tuning the guitar strings to their appropriate setting. Harry nodded at him, smiling back at the crowd.

“Now, so to start. I’ll show you the beginning of Year 10.” Harry held out a colorful mismatched Rubik’s Cube into the air. The audience laughed again, louder this time. “I believe this Rubik’s Cube represents Year 10 very well because Year 10 was a puzzle. Hold on one second.” He looked at Niall who was still busy tuning the guitar. Niall strummed a few chords to warm up and began playing a sweet melody that was loud enough to hear but not loud enough as to not over empower Harry’s low voice. Niall gave him a thumbs up. “That’s better. Thanks Niall. Year 11 was all a blur…”

Harry continued the rest of his speech, building up to something momentous.

“Well now that university is just around the corner, all you have to do is turn those few sides. One second.” He fiddled with the Rubik’s Cube until all the colors matched accordingly. He held it up to show everybody. “And you finally solved your Rubik’s Cube.” The crowd erupted into loud cheer. Once the clapping and minimal laughter died down, Harry cleared his throat and smiled quietly, continuing his speech. “So, now it’s time to say goodbye to Years 10 through 13 and say hello to university.” He tucked the original Rubik’s Cube away and held up another Rubik’s Cube, this one more complicated with various colors than the first. The audience bellowed out into tasteful laughter. “The only thing left to say is congratulations to the Regal Bumblebees Class of 2016 and those who helped us get here. Thank you.”

He bowed politely, letting the cheering wash over him in waves. He waved at them and patted Niall on the shoulder. Niall grinned proudly at him and clapped his back, jogging down the steps of the stage with his guitar slung around his chest. Harry sat down at his seat and waited, the principal tapping the microphone and introducing Louis.

“Now for our salutatorian, Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry cheered along with everybody, waiting. After a few, long enduring seconds, the principal covered the mic and harshly whispered, “Harry, where’s Louis?” He could only shrug. The principal sighed.

As if on cue, Louis ran onstage, clapping a hand to a startled principal. His royal blue gown was unzipped, his white shirt wrinkled and tucked out. The cap atop his head was crooked. He was also missing the tassel. Harry smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly.

Louis offered the principal one of his blinding, sunny smiles that he used whenever he was in major trouble and smoothed his fingertips on the wooden podium. The principal left with only half a grunt. Harry considered it a success. Louis lowered the microphone to his appropriate height and cleared his throat dramatically. Everyone laughed half-heartedly. Louis narrowed his gaze in an amused ill-fitting way.

“Hello everybody. My name is Louis Tomlinson and I am your class salutatorian. Right then. Here we go. I would like to start off by thanking my parents and all my little sisters. You all distracted me from doing my homework so thank you for those classy B’s.” The audience laughed again. Louis grinned, gaining confidence whenever he was under the scrutiny of a harsh spotlight. “Thank you to all my friends who kept me down to earth and to my mates on the team, you all are alright. So, here we are. The end. Well, some might say the end, but for me, it’s just the beginning. As you all may know, I was planning on attending the University of Manchester to play footie for them. _Was_ , as in past tense. Because I changed my mind and I sent in an immediate request to attend another closer university instead. I’ve had a change of heart, Harry.”

Louis looked behind himself to send a cheeky wink to Harry. Harry gaped at him openly, mouthing, “What?” He could faintly hear a shocked gasp coming from somewhere in the crowd. Louis’ mum was going to kill him. Louis looked back into the sea of faces and drummed his fingers on the polished surface.

“Sorry mum. Anyways, life’s all about making choices and changing directions. All me life I thought I was going to attend the University of Manchester but guess what people? Life happens, things change, you meet new people and they change your life for the better. I wouldn’t know where I would be now without my best mates or a special someone in my life.”

He paused again, letting his heavy words linger in the air for a beat. Warmth slowly spread outwards from Harry’s chest, flushing his cheeks hot and red. Louis sighed contently and continued.

“I don’t wanna bore you like Harry did, eh? This boy has a slow drawl, innit?” The crowd laughed whole-heartedly again, Harry shaking his head in fondness while Louis thumbed towards him. “All I wanna say is that I’m very lucky to be in the position I am in today. I’ve got a good family, good friends, good grades, and a good head set on my shoulders. I’m not one for grand speeches, though I’m killer out there on stage. If you didn’t come see me at our school plays, you’re dead to me,” he said in a mischievous tone, his smiling lips curling up into a satisfied smirk.

“All in all, we’re getting old. It’s inevitable. Pretty soon we’ll be old and gray and we’ll be wrinkly like an old plum. And we’ll look back to this day and think how we had the world at our fingertips, even though that’s not the case. Some of you will go out and do grandiose things, change the world, cure cancer even! Most of us will have mediocre jobs with shit pay and boring lives. I, for example, am not one of those people. I know I am destined to do great things, amazing even. I’ll always remember my geography teacher Mr. Schoffield for telling me these few words that will follow me for the rest of my life. _“You will never amount to anything_. _””_

The crowd dissolved into sheer gasps and affronted looks. Mr. Schoffield shook his head and burned a hole in the ground, his sweaty face turning beet red. Louis smiled at him darkly.

“Well, Mr. Shoffield, you’re wrong. I am destined for greatness and your little opinion of me will not change that fact. Besides, I shouldn’t be listening to a guy that gives out A’s for suck-up students. Sorry. Just wanted a bit of sweet revenge there. Anyways, moving on. Thank you for those who’ve stuck around, those who’ve left shaped me into who I am today, and those who have joined me on my journey this year. Remember these words exactly because I will never say them again…I have much love for you all. I really do. Also, I’ll never forget your words of kindness whether it was a simple good luck before my plays or games or reminding me about the homework I forgot about last night. You guys rock. Thank you for being there at my worst times and my best. Lastly but not all, I wanna thank a very special someone. Without him, I would not be able to come terms to being the real version of me. I think you all know who I am referring to. Thank you Harry Styles for being you. You cheeky, flirty minx, thank you.”

Harry looked up at him in surprise. Louis’ teeth snagged on his lower lip, painting it red. Once the clapping from the audience quieted down, Louis turned around and waved at them, smiling brightly. The crowd was attuned to his every word, careful as to not miss any words that dripped from his lips.

“That is the end of my speech, you may clap now. Thank you.” The crowd erupted into cheer and applause again, booming and practically vibrating off the walls. Harry sucked his middle finger and thumb into his mouth, piercing out a loud whistle. Louis grabbed the microphone in passing and rushed out in one single breath, “Oh, by the way, I love it up the arse!”

Harry bit on his fingers harshly. The crowd glanced at each other confusedly, some frowning and looking disgusted while others cheered louder. They were split up between being pleasantly amused or being shockingly offended at Louis’ bold statement. Harry could make out Lottie shaking her head and covering her face with her hand, mouthing silently, “Oh my fucking god.” Harry smiled wider.

“Right.” The principal coughed into the microphone awkwardly as to break the confused silence. “Congratulations Class of 2016! You are all graduates now!”

The rest of the graduates sitting up front changed their tassels to their left and threw their caps up into the air. Colorful streamers of blues, yellows and whites shot into the air, streaking across blurry happy faces. Caps fell down in a flurry like a rainfall. Harry clapped and smiled, his dimples poking out. The class stood up and cheered, hugging one another and talking animatedly. All he could see was Louis clapping hands with Liam and embracing him in a long tight hug, Zayn, Niall and Jade soon to follow.

Afterwards, Harry met up with his family on the cut, green grass. He hugged each one of them and took pictures with them, making silly faces at the camera and posing with Gemma like in _Charlie’s Angels_. He chuckled throatily and slung an arm around her shoulder. Anne smiled looking down at the pictures, sharing them with Des. He was feeling warm and fuzzy all over, brimmed to the top with pure happiness.

His smile broadened when Louis attacked him from behind, climbing onto his back like a koala.

“Hey!” Harry shouted happily, automatically gripping his legs to keep him from falling.

They’ve been in this position so many times before it became second hand nature. When Louis was lazy and Harry had to carry him upstairs from the living room. Or the times when they were dressed in only soft towels, still hazy and slow from their shower sex. Harry would give him a piggyback ride to bed while Louis’ damp clean skin would stick to Harry’s back. It was wonderful.

Louis climbed down. “Hi Harry’s family!” he cheered. He gave Gemma a hug, Anne a kiss on the cheek, and Des a respectable nod of his head and a firm handshake. Harry loved that Louis was like family now. His family had accepted him easily the first ten seconds they met him and constantly invited him over for dinner. Even Des would sometimes linger on Harry’s doorway and casually ask if Louis was coming over. He liked talking to him about sports. It was all too endearing.

“Come on now boys. I want a picture.”

Harry and Louis stood side by side together. They stayed perfectly still while Anne shot continuous picture after picture, shifting the camera to get different, better angles. Louis squeezed his hip. Harry smiled while biting down on his lower lip. He looked at Louis’ profile and smiled down at him. Another flash. He looked back at the camera at the same time Louis looked up at him softly. One more flash. On the last posed picture, they stood there simply staring at each other, at a loss for words. The world around them dissolved away into pure nothingness and it was just the two of them, Harry and Louis, the way it was always supposed to be.

Anne murmured contently and lowered the camera, placing it back in her purse and turning her full attention to Louis.

“Louis, do you wanna join us for dinner at a family restaurant to celebrate? It’s tradition.”

“No, sorry, I’m gonna have to take a raincheck on that. Me and the lads are heading out to this cool lake cavern we found the other day. I was wondering if I could steal Harry for a bit, yeah? If not, then that’s totally okay.”

“What’s it gonna be Harry?”

Harry looked from Anne’s imploring gaze to Louis’ pleading, puppy eyes. He could either spend another night with his family eating his absolute favorite spaghetti and meatballs in a quiet setting or he could spend it with Louis, drenched in water and looking sinful while they would play in the water filled with loud, echoed sounds of their laughing friends. Harry much preferred the latter.

“Sorry guys,” he apologized, kissing his mum on the cheek quickly. “Maybe another time. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Ah, might take a raincheck on that too Haz. We were planning on staying on this cozy cabin by the lake.”

Harry looked at Anne with a pleading, guilty look. Anne sighed long-suffering and winded her arms around him, pulling him close. She kissed the crown of his head, murmuring with squished lips. “Alright. Go on and forget about your family. Be careful.” Harry pulled away and squeezed her tight. “Thanks! Love ya!”

He gripped Louis’ hand and ran off with him, waving distractedly behind his back. They met up with the rest of the group, Harry hugging everybody while Niall and Liam bickered on about who would get shotgun. Ultimately, Louis tugged Harry by the waist and quite literally threw him in the front seat. Niall and Liam pouted and sat in the backseat along with Zayn and Jade.

“Of course Harry would get the front seat,” Liam whined.

“You know it.”

Louis grinned and gripped the edge of Harry’s seat, turning around to reverse out of the parking lot. Harry smiled at him endearingly and grabbed his hand, raising it to his puffy lips and kissing his knuckles. The crew in the back groaned loudly.

“That’s so cute I’m gonna barf,” Zayn groaned, slouching in his seat and lowering the cap on his face.

“Hope you don’t have gag reflex because we’re gonna be doing that all night if you know what I mean,” Louis teased.

As if on purpose, he raised his hips and swiveled them forwards, making the leather seat creak in protest.

This time, Niall, Liam, Zayn and Jade groaned in unison while Harry merely laughed and leaned over to kiss Louis on the cheek. The look Louis gave him raised butterflies in his stomach. He was never going to get tired of this bubbling feeling. He was never going to get tired of Louis. That was for sure.

. . .

Harry sank to the bottom of the lake. His arse hit the ground first, his arms flailing around the cool deep water. He stroked up, up, up, until he resurfaced and breathed a gasp of air. He shook out his wet hair and combed through tendrils of curls licked with water. Louis’ laughing face came closer and gripped him by the shoulders, clinging onto him like a koala bear.

Harry smiled with wet lips and hugged him by the waist. Louis bent his head forwards and sank his sharp little teeth into the bony flesh of his shoulder, leaving small indentations onto the fleshy, pink skin.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Harry laughed, pushing his face away.

Louis relented and moved away from Harry’s pinching fingers. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s broad shoulders and butterflied his legs around him, hugging him tightly. Harry smiled softly at him and pushed his long fringe away from his left squinted eye.

They swam lazily in the cool blue water with Louis’ legs clinging around him. They could hear their friends laughing in the background. Somewhere in the distance, Niall pushed an unsuspecting Jade into the water unexpectedly, Jade screaming and falling unceremoniously. Zayn soon followed by Liam's hard push, squawking when he tried to cover his perfectly styled quiff as he plunged deep into the water. Harry and Louis giggled to themselves.

They were much too wrapped up in each other to chase them. It seemed like whenever they were together, the whole world and everyone else in it seemed to disappear. Everything felt insignificant and unimportant when it was just the two of them.

"Harry," Louis said sternly, his gaze lidded and voice serious. Harry blinked several times at him, his vision blurred by his clumped eyelashes. "I need to tell you something."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Promise me you won't get mad."

Harry rolled his eyes fondly. He licked his lips and squeezed Louis' love handles. Sweet, supple skin he wanted to bite his teeth into. He brushed a drop of water off Louis' cheekbone with the back of his hand and cupped his jaw gently.

"I promise."

"Alright then." Louis took a deep breath and exhaled out of his red bitten lips. He nibbled on the inside of his lower lip and blew air into his cheeks. He nodded to himself and blew out again, his cheeks rounding. "You know at the graduation ceremony, when I said I wasn't going to U of Manchester?"

"Yeah?" Harry said slowly, chasing him with his curious eyes.

"Well I'm not going because I'm attending University College London instead..."

Harry stopped breathing. A crash of waves rolled in his ear, his heart threatening to plummet out of his chest and spill blood everywhere. He didn't know if his ears were playing tricks on him or Louis was just fucking around like he usually did after a few round of beers and he was borderline tipsy.

"Come again?"

Louis laughed brightly. "I'm being serious. I mean, it certainly wasn't my first university choice, God and everybody's mother knows that, and my mum was certainly furious about that as well—“

"Then why?" Harry asked sadly, lip protruding outwards.

He glanced down at Louis' wet thin lips, his pink tongue peeking out from the corner of his red mouth. Louis licked his lips and cupped his face, forcing him to look up at him.

"Because, _Harold_. I care about you deeply and I wanna be with you. Every time I'm not with you my heart aches and I keep finding myself coming back to you all the damn time. I'm attending UCL to be with you. Let's make it official. Let's move in together when fall starts. Besides, the dean of administration allowed me to accept my scholarship to play for the University of Manchester even though I will be attending University College London." Harry visibly blanched, Louis squeezing his squished cheeks gingerly and his eyebrows practically raising to his hairline. He rushed out the words rapidly. "I mean, like—let's not rush, alright? We've got all the time in the world to make this, _us_ , right. If you don't want to, I understand. I just, well, it's finalized, and you'll be seeing a lot of me around campus even if we don't move in together. And wow, I feel so incredibly stupid right now. I should've just run this by you in the first place because—“

"Lou, baby," Harry giggled, holding his slightly trembling wrists upright. He squeezed the skull roped around his delicate wrist once. "I'll be more than happy to move in with you. It's all I've ever wanted."

"Yeah?" Louis asked unsure, biting his lip raw.

"Yeah," Harry breathed out. He pulled Louis' lower lip from under his teeth and moved in to suck on it. He pulled away with a wet pop. Louis' glimmering eyes chased his every movement. "I'd love to."

"Thank god," Louis sighed. "And that's the first time I ever thanked God for anything. Ever."

"I know love, I know," Harry laughed, squeezing his lovely hips.

Louis threw his head back and stared up into the sky, leaving the long column of his throat exposed. It was as if he was secretly inviting for Harry to sink his teeth into. Before he could do anything about it however, he was lost in a trance in the way Louis looked. His eyelids were closed, his long eyelashes sweeping dancing shadows on the tender skin below his eyes. The moonlight hit his sharp cheekbones and made them glow. He was ethereal. Unreal. Unbelievable.

Without warning, Louis cupped his hands around his mouth and screamed bloody murder.

"I love Harry Styles!"

Harry's mouth dropped open comically. He stared at Louis disbelieving, watching his mouth move with words he so desperately wanted to hear for weeks, months, _ages_. Louis yelled at the top of his lungs louder, enunciating the words clearly so they could echo off the dripping cavern walls and float on the surface of the sparkling water, painting streaks of his declaration of love everywhere.

"I, Louis Tomlinson, am in love with Harry Styles!"

"What are you doing?" Harry laughed, pulling his hands away from his mouth.

Louis looked at him with crinkled eyes. He whispered, "I'm yelling so the moon knows we're in love."

He looked so smug and pleased about it, the beautiful bastard.

“I’m in love with you Harry Styles,” Louis said, the words curling in the air between them, something hot like warm syrup pooling in Harry’s veins. He stared at him with an open mouth and sparkling eyes, something like admiration and wonder coloring his forest green eyes. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” he continued in his slow, unusually rumbling voice. He placed Harry’s hand over his heart where he swore it was rapidly beating ten times faster than his. “I just got stuck. But you know what? I think I’ve always loved you…Even before I knew it myself.”

Harry was dead. He was sure of it. How could he be alive when Louis was staring at him so fondly like that? When their cold hands were pressed tightly together and he could feel the heat from his fingertips sear through his damp clothes? Louis’ gaze burned into him like white silence.

He allowed himself a selfish moment where all he felt was happiness. Where he allowed himself to take a deep steadying breath and stare back at Louis with childlike wonder. Without a moment’s waste of breath, he cupped Louis’ face and leaned in, pressing their lips together and stealing his breath. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was Louis fluttering his eyes blissfully shut before tilting his head, moving for a better angle. Louis licked his lips before kissing him warm and deep.

It was the little things like that, that Louis did to make it better.

The warmth of Louis’ mouth was so powerful Harry felt lightheaded with it. His lips slid so sweetly and deliciously wet against his own, applying the right amount of pressure to his open eager mouth and taking control. He loved when Louis took control.

His skin was starting to flame with warmth. Desire and newfound anticipation flooded his entire body, flushing his cheeks red and painting the tip of his nose a bright pink. Hot, dizzying lust spread through him like a wild fire. Everything was electric hot. Louis kissed expertly, tilting his head every moment or so and alternating between pecking him on the mouth and sucking on his bottom lip. Harry always found himself trying to catch up. If he didn’t hurry up, he was going to miss it.

Every body part of them was flush warm against one another. Louis was close and warm even though he was wet, shivers of goosebumps trickling his arms. Harry rubbed his arms to warm him up. Louis’ tongue tasted nothing but him, a warm neutral flavor that Harry wanted to taste forever. Louis whimpered into him and Harry exhaled hotly against his mouth and sucked harder, heavier kisses to his kissed bitten lips. One of Louis’ hands cupped around his neck, the other curling into his hair and lightly tugging on his damp curls, gripping tightly. Harry moaned heavily, Louis taking the opportunity to bite down on his lower lip’s fine skin.

Harry pulled away reluctantly, Louis’ mouth chasing him blindly. He sighed heavily, brushing his thumb over Louis’ damp lip. He closed his eyes and knocked his forehead against Louis’, just breathing him in.

“Can’t,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with raw need. “I’m getting hot.”

“Hm?” Louis hummed.

“Hard,” he clarified, his voice thick. “Getting hard just by your mouth. Don’t want them to see us.”

“Well,” Louis indulged him, his voice lifting with humor. He thumbed the thin skin underneath his eyes and looked up at him with shining lips, his eyes alert yet filled with mischief. “I know a place where they can’t see us.”

“Could they hear us though?”

“I don’t know about that.”

Harry shook his head, pursuing his lips. “We can’t Lou. It’s embarrassing.”

Louis threw his hands up in the air, sending flicks of water droplets everywhere. Harry squeezed his eyes tight and rubbed a fist on his left eye where a drop of water stung. Louis looked at him with a bored expression, cocking his head to the side like a disgruntled little kitten. Harry tried not to find it too endearing. Of course, like always when it came to Louis, he absolutely failed.

“C’mon Haz. Live a little! I mean, they know when we’re together with our hot bods we can’t resist one another. Or…Is that…Only reciprocated on my end?” He squinted his eyes together, lip pouting.

Harry sighed long-suffering.

“Fine. Just because I love you so much.”

“I love _you_.”

Harry smiled quietly to himself and let Louis pull him away to the nearby rocks. He stood up first and helped him to his feet. Water raced down Louis’ toned body, painting him slick. He looked so lovely. Harry wanted to bite into his hips and lick every single rain drop off his delicious, caramel tasting body. By the look in his eye, Louis guessed he figured just as much. He sighed hotly and tugged Harry along, trudging inside the cavern to a secluded corner brimmed with darkness.

When dusk turned into darkness, Harry followed Louis out of their secret spot with weak knees and flushed dappled cheeks. He couldn’t believe his boyfriend took him to a secluded spot and brought blankets and pillows with him so he wouldn’t have to scrape his knees because, “ _You have delicate knees, my darling. Can’t have ‘em getting bruised.”_ Louis then proceeded to eat him out on all fours for long, enduring minutes until Harry cried out and came all over the granite rocks. He then fucked into him bareback, filling him up so good and tugging on his hair until Harry blanked out and Louis coaxed him with feather light kisses and soft strokes. It was as if Louis knew all the cheat codes to Harry’s body and tapped into his walls of pleasure. It was the best sex they ever had. Sex was always better when there were feelings involved.

They rejoined their group hours later with shy smiles and guilty looks. Harry sat down next to Louis on the lounge chair and accepted beers from their friends. For a moment, the rest of the group stared at them with raised, impish eyebrows and judging looks. Harry and Louis glanced at each other warily, clearly uncomfortable. Harry’s neck suddenly felt too hot.

Niall broke the heavy silence with his uproarious cackles first. The rest of their friends soon followed, filling in the empty spaces with light laughter and loud whoops.

“Alright, alright.” Louis waved at them, cradling the neck of the beer using one hand. “We get it. No need to rub it in.”

“You should’ve seen the look on Harry’s face mate! Looked like he proper pissed himself,” Niall laughed, his cheeks dotted a cheery red.

“Did not,” Harry mumbled, embarrassment coloring his voice and cheeks.

Louis shook his head and smiled down at his lap. While their friends continued to chortle and fall off their seats in laughter, Louis took Harry’s hand and brushed his thumb on his skin. He kissed Harry’s knuckles softly, smiling at him in the way he knew it was reserved only for him. They were surrounded by their best friends and Louis had eyes only for him. Warmth spread all throughout his body, threatening the butterflies to come alive whenever he was next to him.

“It was worth it,” Louis quietly whispered.

“It was,” Harry answered back just as quietly.

Louis’ answering smile was everything.

It was...It fit. Everything about them always simply just fit. And suddenly, Harry could feel it. Louis' love. It was everywhere. In the touch of his fingertips and his heavy gaze and his longing words. Louis was everywhere. He was everything. He was all of it. Summertime, butterflies, love...Everything.

And with a heavy heart, entirely for all the right reasons, Harry just knew. Louis loved him back too. Maybe even more. He didn't need confirmation or reassurance like he once needed before because Louis was right in front of him, has been all along, caring for him and protecting him with blinding sunny smiles and crinkled cool blue eyes.

Louis was and always will remain Harry's everything.

And afterwards, when they were slightly tipsy off five or six beers and they shared stories under the moonlight in front of a crackling campfire, Harry and Louis shared sweet, sticky marshmallow kisses, Harry letting Louis take him home the next night. Thankfully, his family was out on a summer vacation to Barbados having finally earned enough money to take a much deserved trip out. He had politely declined because he wanted to spend time with Louis before they got busy with the upcoming fall term.

Harry and Louis kissed hungrily all the way upstairs to Harry’s bedroom, never once breaking their kiss, even when they were shedding articles of clothing on the way there. Harry shoved his collared button up off his shoulders while Louis’ fingertips pressed to his hot skin. Louis kissed him openly and wetly, pushing him onto the bed and straddling him in half a second. Louis brushed his fingers on his naked chest, rubbing his palms on his hardening nipples. Harry moaned weakly, Louis cupping his jaw and pressing fervent kiss after fervent kiss up to his earlobe, biting on it lightly.

Louis wrecked him that night even after a day before he allowed Harry to sit on his face while Louis hummed and moaned, tentative broad licks licking into his dripping hole, smattering spit all over his lips and chin. He looked absolutely obscene.

This time, they took it slow. Louis prepped him well long enough that he had Harry moaning pathetically and leaking all over the sheets, his cock painfully hard and red at the tip. He removed his fingers much to Harry’s dismay and gripped his cock, his hot, wet insistent mouth sucking on his head. Harry came one minute later.

It drove Harry crazy. He cried out with one hand planted to the wall while Louis corkscrewed his thick, heavy cock inside him, tugging on his hair harshly and biting on his neck. Louis filled him with wet, creamy white come, pulling out and dragging his still hard cock on his slick back, spreading a string of come down his spine. Harry whimpered and fell to the mattress, feeling heavy but so incredibly full, his thighs shaking and his breaths labored.

After, Harry took his first try at eating out Louis. He fucking loved it. He loved seeing Louis fall apart just by using his mouth and fingers. He stared up at him and gauged his every expression as Louis arched his back and whined high in his throat, his glimmering eyelids closing shut and mouth falling open on a breathless moan. He pulled apart his cheeks using his thumbs and pressed his face in deeper, driving his tongue inside. Louis was so incredibly tight and his hole clenched around Harry’s slurping tongue. It was then that he urged Louis to ride his face and Louis looked at him with stars in his eyes, babbling incoherent agreeable noises and moving forwards and backwards on Harry’s face. He licked him up good and clean, slurping his juices up once in a while, while Louis fell apart right before his eyes and came all over Harry’s sweaty curls and headboard. It was magnificent.

They went at it the whole night. Harry sucked Louis’ thick cock with a tie wrapped around his wrists and his headscarf blinding his eyesight like the first night in the locker rooms. Louis had gotten much more confident at the whole dominant daddy role. He slapped Harry with intent only to kiss him sweetly afterwards and always made Harry come on demand. He even emptied himself on Harry’s waiting tongue when Harry shivered and mumbled hoarsely, “Daddy.”

Finally, after hours of playing and chasing for endless release, Harry rested his head on Louis’ muscled arm, both boys breathing out heavily. The room smelled of musky, heavy sex air, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. He didn’t mind lighting on vanilla candles to mask the smell anyways.

(He’ll have you know he has an unhealthy obsession with excessive candles.)

Louis’ arm curled around him. He smelled a little musky and warm, like the earth after a heavy rainfall. But Harry always loved Louis dirty the best. It suited him. Just like after a footie match, Louis was sweaty and dirty, grass stains on his knees and arms. He smelled like the warm, damp earth. Louis pressed his lips to the crown of Harry’s head, simply inhaling his scent. They were both quiet, Harry on the slower, orgasmic hazy side while Louis was probably thinking things like always. They were plunged into darkness, Louis’ pestering thoughts practically poking Harry in the side.

“Mmm,” Harry’s groan came muffled from where his face was pressed into Louis’ damp armpit. “Stop thinking.”

“How did you know I was thinking?” Louis asked, his voice thick and raspy with his Yorkshire accent.

It was always much more prominent when he was sleepy in the nights or early mornings. Harry loved his voice any way.

Harry removed his face from Louis’ armpit and licked his salty lips, lips still tingling and puffy from Louis’ wet warm taste. His cheek was squished from where it was pressed to Louis’ shoulder.

“You make that scrunchy thing with your nose and besides, you’re not talking. You’re _always_ talking.”

“Shut up,” Louis huffed through his nose, scrunching it cutely again. He prodded Harry’s ribs with a sharp pointed finger. “Shut your stupid, beautiful big mouth.”

Harry looked up at him in awe.

“You think my mouth is beautiful?”

Louis stared at him with unblinking, scrutinized eyes.

“Really? That’s what you got from that?”

Harry rolled his shoulders in a shrug the way Louis did. Louis huffed out breathless laughter and hugged him to his sticky chest.

Before, Harry was encompassed with this sudden ache and longing of love for Louis. It made it hard to eat, sleep, breathe. It made it hard to exist. Now, the feeling was still there, of course it will always be there, but it was much subtler. It was a constant warmth flooding in his veins like an ocean, not so much like a cascading overflowing waterfall like before, but a cool rush of waves. Not that his love for Louis had subsided, definitely not, in fact it would only grow bigger. Just that he knew how to control it and keep it at bay now. He was planning on loving Louis entirely for the rest of his life through their hardships and obstacles, even when they would both grow old and grey and fat and wrinkly. Louis was his and forever, Harry was never letting go. Not again. Not ever.

“Harry…Why do you love me?” Louis asked quietly, vulnerability shaping his words. When Harry made no move to answer, Louis shrunk in on himself. He shook his head furiously and picked at a loose thread on Harry’s dark blue duvet, embarrassment coating the apples of his cheeks in a bright pink color. “Sorry, that was a stupid question. We should just go to sleep—“

“No, no. I have one reason actually. Louis William Tomlinson. I love you because the first time I met you, I knew. I could never not love you. Not now. Not ever.” Harry lifted himself on his elbows and stared at him starry-eyed, pressing his fists into his cheeks. He was so close that his nose touched Louis’. “You could forget about me, you could find somebody else, you could do it all, and I will always love you.”

Louis stared at him open-mouthed with glassy eyes.

“You sappy fuck.”

“You love it though.”

Louis rolled on top of him and sunk his teeth into his shoulder. Harry inwardly groaned and shifted his legs, opening them wide to accommodate Louis’ naked thigh in between. Louis’ tongue stroked languidly on his burning skin. He pressed his closed mouth to his shoulder and smiled, his eyes fluttering blissfully shut. With closed eyes and a sleepy smile, he whispered in the dark,

“I do.”

“Hey.” Harry perked up, self-consciously digging his fingers into his growing hair. “Do you think I should cut my hair? It’s getting quite long, innit?”

Louis hummed quietly and twisted a lock of hair around his finger. He tugged on it lightly. He smiled down at him, his eyes crinkling with sheer happiness. Harry smiled wide, his dimples making an appearance.

“No. You should grow it out. It looks lovely.”

“Do you like it better long?”

“I will like your hair any length or shape or form it is. Because it’s _you_.”

Harry smiled happily to himself and hugged Louis closer.

“You know I love you, right?” Louis asked.

“I know."

(He did.)


	16. A Short Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet epilogue where Harry and Louis are finally married with five children.
> 
> Set in Louis' viewpoint.

* * *

**LOUIS DROPPED HIS KEYS ON THE BLUE CERAMIC BOWL** and shut the door with his foot. He toed off his grass stained white Adidas trainers by the foot of the door, alongside Harry's old tan suede booties. He shrugged off his black and white speckled sweater and hung it on the coat rack, a habit he's come to terms with ever since he started living with Harry in their five bedroom spacious and messy flat.

Living with Harry and their five children was a stained filled, uproarious disastrous adventure that Louis wouldn't change for the world. He knew he made the right decision when he immediately proposed after they graduated and settled in together after they both had respectable, well paying jobs.

Louis became a footie coach at the University of Manchester and part time theatre director. Harry became a teacher at a school for Early Years and took advertising photographs on the side. They were well off and had a grand loft that adopting five children one year after another was an easy task.

Louis crinkled his nose. The smell of candle wax and faint roses wafted into the air. Maybe Harry lit up his candles once again. He padded over to the kitchen and opened the oven door, checking if there was roasted chicken or melted lasagna to devour. There was none. He had a long day of coaching and he was both tired and hungry. His stomach growled. He rubbed his stomach thoughtfully in return.

He noticed a single white note resting on top of the kitchen island under a beam of light. _Louis_ was written in careful, cursive writing. He opened it warily, eyes flitting over the inked words.

_Come to bed, sexy angel. I'll be waiting with your favorite pair of red lingerie._

A hot flush wave of arousal curled tight in his lower belly. Harry and Louis were so busy with the kids that they hardly had time to fool around, lest for a quick messy blowjob. The rare times they were in the mood, one of the babies would shrill loudly and they would have to calm down their crying. The other times, their second youngest child, Luca, almost walked in on them when Harry was sinking down Louis' thick cock. It was safe to say they weren't doing that again with the door unlocked.

In fact, they haven't even slept together in well over a month.

Louis was so deprived of their constant sex life that he succumbed to guiltily jerking off in his office with the door locked, the room smelling like dirty socks and men's powerful deodorant. Last time he jerked off to one of Harry's raunchy sext pictures, he came all over the screen and keyboard. It wasn't a pretty sight.

He had to chase after his release somehow.

Louis' cheeks flushed hot red. The room was quiet, _too quiet_. Maybe Harry had put the babies to sleep earlier than usual since they were going to have a sex driven adventure tonight. He quickly pulled his sticky shirt over his head and threw it somewhere carelessly on the floor. He'll have to apologize Harry for that later.

He quite literally ran to their bedroom and stopped halfway, toeing off his mismatched socks. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his black trousers, swinging by the open door of their lit bedroom and leaning on the doorframe with his thumbs digging into the waistband of his boxers.

Louis immediately stilled. One startled Harry and five giddy children were hanging out in their bedroom. The room was enveloped in a soft, warm yellow glow from all the lit melting candles. The room smelled like roses and perfume. Rose petals were scattered around the floor and the bed, mostly Jack's, their five year old's, doing. He was carrying a basket of roses and smiling happily up at Louis.

Harry smiled sheepishly at him, cradling their youngest one year old with an open children's book tucked in his hand.

"Guess who wanted to help with the surprise?" Harry said shyly.

"Papa!" their children cheered out in one single chorus.

"Well clearly the best helpers," Louis supplied cheerfully. He picked up Darla, their two year old, and cooed a soft hello at her. He hugged her to his naked chest. She smelled like strawberry shampoo and baby powder. "The room's never looked better. So what are we reading over there?"

Harry raised his eyebrows in initial surprise. Louis plopped himself on the bed next to Harry, bumping his shoulder with his. Harry's dark blue robe fell around his naked shoulders, exposing clean warm skin. Bolts of electricity zipped through Louis' anticipated tinged body. The rest of their children gathered around them, clearly interested in the aspect of a bedtime story. Harry smiled softly at him, chasing him with obvious curiosity.

"You're not mad?"

"'Course not. How could I be? The room smells amazing."

Louis grabbed the book from Harry's hand and flipped it to the first page. He smiled down at all their children and cleared his throat, ready to begin storytelling. Before he could start however, Harry covered Darla's ears, leaned over and whispered in Louis' ear,

"You're gonna get fucked so hard tonight you won't be walking for a week."

Louis visibly shuddered. Harry smirked and uncovered Darla's ears, licking his deep rose puffy lips. Louis stared at his licked with spit lips. This boy...

Louis gathered his willpower to not kick out their children from their bedroom and ravage Harry on the bed right then and there. He pursed his lips and squinted his eyes at Harry, who looked all too satisfied with himself.

"Go on then," Harry urged, grinning widely.

Louis shook his head and opened his mouth, fingering along the words as he read aloud to their five sleepy children.

Even though it was late at night and Louis' bones were chilled with exhaustion and not enough sleep, he carried their children to each of their bedrooms. He kissed them on their cheeks while Harry stared at him softly. He tucked their littlest one in the crib in their bedroom and stroked his cheek gently. He stirred in his sleep, muffling out these soft little snuffles. It shouldn't have been endearing, but it was. Louis almost melted at their adorable bundle of happiness.

Finally, Louis climbed into bed with Harry and shut the lights off. That night, he touched Harry's skin, warm and smooth, and treated his body like a godsend temple. It had been so long that every touch, every caress, felt like a heartfelt promise. He wasn't a fool enough to leave. He wondered why it took him so long to claim Harry as his when they were both young and full of love. Never again. He was a lucky man.

He specifically remembered one night in particular when they were both laying in bed side by side together after coming down from their high. Louis ran his fingertips on his arm, watching goosebumps speckle his skin in wonderment. Harry was tucked out and ready to fall asleep anytime soon, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion. Louis remembered how he felt it there, the feeling so powerful that it consumed him beyond words. He didn't feel like drowning anymore. In fact, he felt like he was floating, feeling delirious and inexplicably happy. Harry made him feel that way. He brought forth all these feelings that he never understood himself and made fun of other people for having them. This was him. The boy without a care in the world and laughed at other people for being in love. This was him now. The boy that fell in love with a golden boy that wore his glass heart on his sleeve.

Louis was in love.

He had kissed Harry's forehead, pressing his lips flush to his skin. Harry had fallen into a deep slumber by now, snuffling out soft endearing snores. Louis took out his phone and quickly snapped a picture of the sleeping boy, aware that his bright flash could awaken him up. Harry stirred in his sleep. He plucked his phone to charge and tucked Harry into his arms, smile pressed to his damp curls.

"I love you so much," he whispered, feeling nothing but happiness and joy.

 _That_ was the first time he ever said those words. 

Later that same night, Louis fell in love all over again with the sounds that fell from Harry's swollen slicked lips. The whimpers and moans Harry emitted were beautiful. He wanted to record them on tape and hear them whenever he was having a long, tiring night, curling a fist around his hard cock as he jerked off slowly to the sound of Harry's raspy voice. He covered Harry's wet parted mouth with his hand while he fucked into him deep and slow, relishing in the feel of his hot tight hole. Harry was unfuckingbelievable.

Afterwards, Louis cleaned him up with a wet flannel and tucked around Harry's back, curling into him and pressing his knees to the back of Harry's own. He kissed his shoulder and pressed his nose in his damp curls, simply breathing him in.

Louis was curled up in Harry's lavender sweatshirt that always smelled like home. He could smell the curl of his hair in the back of his neck with Harry's smile pressed to his hand. And if the smell would fade away, his sweatshirt was threadbare, Harry will always be Louis' home.


End file.
